


Heartache

by LokiFirefox



Category: Glee, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiFirefox/pseuds/LokiFirefox
Summary: ABANDONED. Blaine, Cooper and Sam head to Beacon Hills hoping to find a way to protect themselves from the supernatural creatures that have already claimed the lives of many of their friends. What they didn't expect was to run into Scott's pack. Scott finds himself drawn to Blaine but Sam is standing in the way. Will they put their differences aside in time to defend themselves under this new threat?





	1. Introduction

You don't have to read the full introduction, if you want to skip to the first chapter, go ahead but before you do I want you to understand that this fic is effectively abandoned. I started writing this in the first half of Season 3 of Teen Wolf so Kira isn't around and I had a different idea of what happened with the Nemeton and what happened with Scott, Allison and Stiles went on their vision quest. The short version is that my dissatisfaction with where Glee went in the latter half of the fourth season all the way through the fifth season affected my writing. I lost my inspiration and any drive about this fandom. Season six effectively killed it.

I'm posting this because I worked hard at it and I want to share it but any requests to continue this will be ignored. You can go ahead and make the request, I'll just ignore it. If you want to continue it, go right ahead but please send me a link so I can read it and see what you did with it.

Okay if you want to go and read, you can go ahead. The rest of the introduction is basically why I went where I did with the Teen Wolf lore, a basic overview of the aswang and a few other odds and ends. So if you aren't interested in that you can just go on ahead.

I started writing this right after the hiatus of Season 3 of Teen Wolf. So Ethan and Aidan were around, the woman who would be known as Braeden is deceased (because as far as I could tell, she was killed), Allison hasn't snuffed it, Kira and Malia haven't been introduced yet and I was in the throes of Scissac. This fic, though, was supposedly a Scott/Blaine story but I made the mistake of including Sam (it was just supposed to be Blaine and Cooper) and, well, Sam refused to let Blaine go. So that didn't happen.

I wasn't confident in writing Stiles' brand of humor so I wrote him out of the story. I also loathed Derek so when the story had him and Cora leave, I just let them. I always thought that Stiles would become the Giles/Willow to Scott's Buffy so in my story he's being prepped to be the Emissary of Beacon Hills but Marin rightly argued that Stiles would not have the objectivity to be able to stand up to Scott, so Deaton suggests that Stiles be Scott's pack's Emissary, which he will train and Marin can train another Emissary who will oversee the Nemeton and be the druid for Beacon Hills, she chooses Danny.

I was going to change this and make Danny Scott's Emissary because after seeing succeeding seasons of Teen Wolf, it's shown that Stiles would definitely stand up to Scott and is a forceful character in his own right. But that is water under the bridge. Moot point.

I also didn't want Scott's pack to be too strong so I had to remove the twins as well, so to atone for their misdeeds (Braeden's, Boyd's and Erica's deaths, as well as countless others) I sent them on a vision quest with Marin and Stiles, the reasoning of which is explained in the story. So the vision quest thing is to keep them out of my hair and not make Scott's pack incredibly powerful but they can serve as cavalry when I needed them in the story.

As for the Glee side of things, yes, there are characters who are definitely dead. The status of the rest are unknown, except for the ones mentioned in the story, I actually hadn't made up my mind which Glee character survives. 

The aswang is a Philippine monster. The aswang mentioned in this story is what the Teen Wolf werewolves are to what werewolves are in legend and story. It's been comic-ised and streamlined for TV audiences. Depending on the region in the Philippines, aswangs can mean different kinds of creatures. What I did was borrow (re: steal) ideas from the White Wolf games (V:TM and V:TR) and made the different clans of aswangs I made up into the different Filipino monsters (the manananggal and tik-tik for example). Don't take my notes on the aswang as what they are in Philippine myth and legends, mine have been heavily edited.

Finally, this has not been beta-ed and I really couldn't get my tenses and verbs to agree so I apologize. This is the fourth version of the draft before I gave up. I wanted to bring down the exposition by a lot but I was not able to so in the middle bit is a lot of world-building and TALKING. It was this bit that delayed the writing, I couldn't cut it down and then Glee let me down and I just never been able to continue.

There are actually 12 chapters, chapter 1 and 14 are the introduction and afterword.


	2. Chapter 1

Cooper looks out the window, careful not to disturb the curtains. He can see the motel parking lot, which has a few parked cars, flickering lights and little else; even the traffic on the highway is light. It’s pretty much automatic now, as soon as they get a room Sam settles Blaine in and Cooper immediately pulls the curtains closed and then starts keeping watch out the windows. It doesn’t matter that they haven’t seen their pursuers for weeks or that Blaine could tell them if they were close, Cooper needs to keep watch. It’s one of the few things he can do.

He sees Sam come out of the bathroom where he led Blaine to earlier. Sam looks exhausted. He doesn’t blame him; they’ve been on the road for almost ten hours. Fortunately he can see from Sam’s face that it’s only exhaustion. Three months together and he has learned to read the young man really well.

“How is he?” Cooper asks. A variation of the same question he always asks as soon as they settle into whatever motel room, hotel room, barn or shed they find.

“The water is cooling him down,” Sam replies. He grabs Blaine’s bag and pulls out some clothes: sweat pants and a t-shirt. Gone are the silk pyjamas, the designer clothes, the bowties, even the gel. Life on the run has made them stick to the light and practical. Besides, they have to blend in, not stand out.

Cooper nods and walks towards the beige dinette table that came with their room and starts to lay out their map. He hears Sam walk back into the bathroom, presumably to check on Blaine and to leave him his clothes. Less than a minute later Sam joins him, looking at the map spread out before them. Cooper relaxes some more, if Sam isn’t hovering over Blaine, then there isn’t anything to worry about.

“We should be there by tomorrow night,” Cooper says confidently. “I think we can risk driving there directly. At this point trying to be clever is going to do more harm than good.” Cooper looks up at Sam to see if he agrees. It doesn’t matter that there is at least a ten-year gap between them, after everything they’ve been through, as far as Cooper is concerned, Sam and he are equals.

Sam keeps his eyes on the map, mentally tracing their route from Lima, Ohio. He nods thoughtfully, agreeing with Cooper. “Yeah,” he says and also adds, “we either lost them by now or they have gotten better at hiding that even Blaine can’t sniff them out. If that’s the case, I don’t want Blaine to suffer any more than he has to.”

Cooper looks up concerned, “Has it gotten worse?”

Sam meets Cooper’s eyes and smiles at him without humor. “No, but I don’t want him to go through it if he doesn’t have to.”

Cooper looks back down at the map guiltily. “We had to take a round-about route, Sam, they can’t know where we are going or they would have cut us off—”

“We know that, Coop.” The familiar, tired voice makes Cooper’s heart ache. He looks up to see his baby brother standing there in his sweatpants and shirt, his dark curls still wet from his shower. Sam immediately walks to his side, eyes checking him out even though he just left him a few minutes ago. Blaine bears the scrutiny with gentle patience and holds out his hand absently which Sam gratefully takes as soon as he makes himself certain that Blaine is okay.

“We all decided that this was the best way to go,” Blaine continues as if nothing interrupted him. “Don’t feel bad about it. I prefer feeding on wild things anyway, less human connections, you know?”

Cooper gives Blaine a smile but he knows as soon as Blaine goes through the cravings again and the guilt that follows after he satisfies it, he’s going to question that decision; even now, when they are so close to their goal he’s wondering if taking the long way was the right choice. Blaine sits down on one of the beds. Seeing him settling down, Sam goes into the bathroom. Cooper absently hears the shower go on.

“The dog was a pet?” Cooper asks. He knows how much Blaine loves dogs and the idea of feeding on them was abhorrent to him, knowing it belonged to someone made it worse—he felt like he killed someone’s family. But Cooper felt that a dog that was allowed to run loose, especially at night, was not some loved member of the family. Besides, he would offer a unicorn up to Blaine if it meant his brother wouldn’t go through the cravings. Suppressing the frenzy that followed a feeding was hard enough on him, wallowing in needless guilt didn’t help. But then if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be Blaine and after everything that has happened, Cooper has learned to appreciate his younger brother, quirks and all.

Blaine nods and Cooper squeezes his brother’s arm in sympathy. The problem was that Blaine formed an empathic connection to his...prey. It didn’t make it easier for Blaine—feeling his...targets’...death throes—even though he knew far worse things can happen if he didn’t feed at all. It only makes _Them_ all the more monstrous.

“So...tomorrow night?” Blaine asks, changing the subject as he usually does when they lead to his feeding habits.

Cooper nods, allowing the subject change—there really wasn’t anything else to say about it that hasn’t been said before. “We’ll be in Beacon Hills around eight at the earliest. I think we should skip finding a motel. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

Blaine nods in agreement and a companionable silence descends; only the sounds of the shower, the whirr of the air-conditioning unit and the odd truck or car on the highway fill the room. Cooper used to hate the quiet. He used to have a need to make some noise, either by playing music or by talking. But now he’s learning to enjoy the quiet. It means safety, it means rest, and it also allows him to hear if anyone tries to come close.

“Coop,” Blaine says, breaking the silence. Cooper looks up and sees Blaine looking at him, his hazel eyes open and vulnerable in a way he hasn’t seen in a long time. “Thank you. I mean it, thank you for doing this,” Blaine’s voice breaks as tears start to form. Cooper immediately rushes to him and puts his arms around Blaine, hugging him tight. Blaine returns the hug and leaves Cooper breathless, Blaine is usually very good at remembering that his strength has increased since...the change but apparently tonight Blaine’s too caught up in his emotions to be careful.

“Shhh...shhh...it’s okay,” Cooper says, trying to soothe his baby brother.

“You didn’t have to do this but you gave everything up for me,” Blaine continues, hiccupping through his tears.

“What are you talking about?” Cooper smiles at Blaine. “I didn’t give anything up. You’re my brother; I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Blaine smiles up at him just as the door of the bathroom swings open revealing a very wet, very naked Sam. Sam quickly looks around the room.

“Are you okay? I felt Blaine’s upset, did they find us?”

Blaine mouths a ‘sorry’ at Cooper but Cooper just rolls his eyes and grins at Blaine. He’s too used to moments like this and it doesn’t really bother him anymore. Not that it ever did.

“Sam, it’s okay,” Blaine says calmly, trying to gain control of his emotions. “It’s just that we’re so near that I let myself go, you know? There’s no danger.”

Sam turns to face Blaine and kneels in front of him, searching out his face. Blaine puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder and meets Sam’s eyes, showing him that he just had a brief loss of control. Sam relaxes and nods. He then seems to realize his undressed state but he doesn’t blush, between these two he has nothing to hide or be ashamed of.

“I better grab a towel, I’m leaving a puddle,” Sam says getting up and heading to the bathroom. “Bathroom’s yours, Coop,” Sam says as he grabs a towel and dries himself off while bringing out the clothes he was wearing earlier.

Cooper nods and prepares for his own shower. He squeezes Blaine’s shoulder and gets up, starting to undress.

Much later, Cooper is on the single bed working on his laptop. On the queen-sized bed beside him, Blaine and Sam are sleeping together with Sam spooning Blaine. Cooper smiles at the peaceful sight but he knows that both would go from deep sleep to wide awake in a split-second if they have cause.

Their bags are already packed as always. They never let their stuff spread out, even if they are staying in a place for more than a day or two, they are always ready to go in an instant. He sighs and goes back to work. He’s been spending his nights in the past two weeks this way, making sure that Pamela’s journal was scanned and transcribed correctly into a digital format.

 _They_ are after two things: Pamela’s journal and Blaine. He realized that Pamela’s journal may even be worth more to _Them_ than Blaine so he wants to make sure they are free to use it as leverage if they have to but Cooper doesn’t want to go without the information in it. It has literally saved their lives, especially Blaine’s, on more than one occasion.

Soon after realizing his need to make a copy of the journal, he convinced the other two to stay an extra day in some small town in South Dakota (or was it Nebraska?) where he was able to get high-quality scans of the journal’s pages. Not everything in the journal is text. There are illustrations and runes and symbols; and Word doesn’t come with a ‘magic symbol’ font. He’s been making sure the digital and the actual journal match up. He figured dealing with magic, he better be exact. Aside from being a back-up (and easier to search for stuff), he wants a digital copy because if he has to, he’ll trade the actual journal for help without them losing any advantage giving up the actual journal will cause.

Pamela did say that the druids would give much for it.

Unfortunately, while the journal may be enough to get the druids’ help; it isn’t the druids he needs to convince. He has to convince the ones whose territory they were going to have to enter; the ones who are the undisputed guardians and keepers of the Nemeton. And they are not happy about beings like Blaine.

He would have to deal with the Hales.


	3. Chapter 2

They finally drive into Beacon Hills at half-past eight. Cooper is seriously rethinking his plan about not finding a motel first. He is bone-tired. He’s only had about two hours sleep before Sam woke him but at least he finished it. Pamela’s journal has been proofed-read to an inch of its life. He spent the rest of the evening creating several copies and uploading it on his, Sam’s and Blaine’s Dropbox and Google drives as well as emailing copies to himself, Blaine, Sam plus to three more email addresses he made that night, just to be safe. He did sleep in the car for the rest of the trip only taking over from Blaine an hour ago but he’s still exhausted. Blaine is sleeping in the back, having done most of the driving today letting him and Sam rest. But unlike Sam, Cooper doesn’t really sleep well in a moving car.

Seeing an open diner, Cooper happily compromises. He quickly parks the car in an open space. They need to eat and it might just give him the energy boost he needs. Plus they’ll have coffee.

Sam looks up from the map he was studying but doesn’t say anything at the change of plans. He just reaches over the back and gently nudges Blaine.

“Wake up B, we’re stopping for dinner and coffee.”

Blaine’s eyes whip open. It always unnerves Cooper to see it, and a little envious. Blaine can go from deep sleep to instant wakefulness, a trick he seemed to have passed on to Sam—probably through their connection.

“We can also get directions to the Hale property,” Cooper adds. “No sense in stumbling around in the dark, especially them being what they are. We want them seeing us coming a mile away.”

Sam nods in agreement as the three of them get out of the non-descript SUV that Cooper bought all those months ago when they started this trip.

The three of them walk in the diner. Cooper could remember the time when he wanted everyone to see him when he first walked in a room. Now he prays that no one looks up when they do.

Not that they’ll see anything unusual. He still remembers bleaching his hair the first month they were on the run. _They_ were looking for two brunets and a blond. So he and Blaine went for the bleach. Seeing Blaine as a blond was one of the few truly funny moments during that harrowing time. After shaving their hair and letting it grow back in the ensuing months, he and Blaine are now back to their dark colors and it is Sam who’s sporting light brown hair.

People do look at them when they come in but they don’t seem to take any special interest and Cooper breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Blaine gives him a knowing smile and then gives a subtle hand-sign indicating that he doesn’t sense any of the others. It’s only when Blaine gives the sign that Sam starts to relax, not that he ever does relax completely.

They make their way to an empty table and order dinner. Without having to say a word, Cooper holds out his hand to Sam who quickly gives him the map. Cooper makes his way to the counter, catching the eye of the man behind the cash register.

“What can I do for you, son?” the man asks.

Cooper can’t help but smile inside. He’s probably only about six to eight years younger than the guy but people tend to think he’s half his actual age.

“I just need some directions,” he says, smiling his best ‘be a bro and help another bro out’-smile. “I’m heading out to the Hale property and I just want to make sure I don’t get lost.”

Cooper immediately sees the man tense up. He was told that the Hales are a big deal here, even without people knowing they were werewolves. But this is different. Human behaviour is his stock and trade, he may not be the best actor out there but having to rely on his acting skills in life-or-death situations recently has made him at least a good reader of body language. There is something off here.

“Why do you want to go out there?” the man asks suspiciously and, to Cooper’s surprise, incredulously.

“I have business with the Hales,” Cooper says neutrally. He figures it’s better to give out the truth, or part of it, and be vague than to be specific and lie. Something is different from what they were told and until he figures out what it is, he has to be careful and not say something that will bite them in the ass later. Figuratively _and_ literally.

“Oh,” the man says and relaxes a bit, “well you’re a bit late. Derek Hale left town a few weeks ago and no one has heard from him. Least, that’s what I heard.”

Cooper keeps himself from showing surprise. _Derek_ Hale? Pamela told him that the leader of the Hale pack was a _Talia_ Hale. Cooper wonders who the hell Derek Hale is and what happened to Talia?

“That’s a pity,” he says playing along. He was never good at improv, but that too has improved by leaps and bounds; nothing like the danger of death to motivate a person to become better at something. “I was warned that if I take my time that I would lose my window.”

The man has completely relaxed by now, thinking he’s figured Cooper out, and then happily for Cooper jumps to the wrong conclusion. “I never thought Derek Hale would sell but I don’t really blame him.”

Cooper blinks then leans forward a bit. Something _has_ happened. And he has to find out what. Blaine’s life, his sanity, his very soul is at stake. Not to mention that if anything happens to Blaine, Sam would surely follow. “Yeah,” Cooper says, trying to fish for more information, “pity about what happened.”

And he gets a bite. Oh boy, does he ever.

About twenty minutes later Cooper rejoins Blaine and Sam at their table. His food is already there and thankfully still warm. Cooper forces himself to eat, no sense in wasting it. Sam is as alert as usual, keeping a quiet eye on everyone. He can see Blaine suppressing his worry for Sam’s sake but he keeps his peace until Cooper has finished eating.

After Cooper has eaten enough to take the edge off his hunger and drank enough coffee to wake him up a bit, he looks at Blaine and sighs.

“It’s not good,” he starts. “The Hale pack is non-existent. A fire burned down their house ten years ago and killed most of them. The only survivors were an uncle and two of the kids, a boy and a girl—although they ought to be adults by now. The uncle, Peter Hale, was, until recently, a catatonic suffering from third-degree burns. He has since made a ‘miraculous’ full recovery. Of the two kids, the girl Laura, was found dead last year and the other, Derek, left town a few weeks ago.”

“Well...shit,” Sam says.

“Dead?” Blaine asks. “Was she murdered?”

“They found her cut in half so that’s pretty likely,” Cooper says, barely repressing a shudder. “And that’s not all, there have been a lot of killings in the past year and the latest was pretty gruesome. The guy I talked to, Tony, thinks it was a serial killer.”

“A serial killer?” Sam asks flatly.

“Who they haven’t caught,” Cooper says, making Blaine grimace. “The good news though is that the killings have stopped. Or at least there haven’t been any reported deaths in the past few weeks.”

“Would it be safe to assume that the deaths were caused by supernatural stuff?” Sam asks.

“I think that would be a safe assumption,” Blaine says. “I think I should do a more thorough sweep. We don’t want to find ourselves caught in the middle of something.” When Sam scowls, Blaine hastens to reassure him, “I didn’t feel anything active right now so either whoever they are have left or they’re lying low. They won’t even notice I’m here.”

“If the Hales aren’t around to police the area,” Sam says with a frown, “how safe are we?”

“Actually this isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Cooper says. “We needed the Hale Alpha’s permission to use the Nemeton but without the pack, we can deal directly with the druid.”

“Is the druid still around though?” Blaine asks.

“We can look him up,” Cooper replies. “If he’s still around he would have stayed and become a part of the community. Remember what Pamela said.”

Blaine nods. “A druid will either take up a healing, teaching or guiding role in a community. Besides, if the druid is still alive, pack or no pack, he or she will not leave the Nemeton unguarded.”

“So we’ll look at the phone book and, if he’s unlisted, check out the schools and hospitals and clinics nearby.”

“Luckily this place isn’t too big,” Sam adds, “so it shouldn’t take long.”

“And if the druid has moved on?” Blaine asks. “I’m not being negative,” he adds quickly before either two could say anything. “I just want to know what Plan B is going to be.”

Cooper picks up Sam’s untouched coffee. It was still warm. Blaine always orders three cups but Sam never touches his and if Cooper doesn’t take it, Blaine does. He thinks about what Plan B can be. They need the Nemeton more than they need a druid. If push came to shove, he could perform the ritual. Pamela talked him through it, having a druid was better only because it lessened the chance for something to go wrong.

“We don’t have time to find another pack, who may or may not have an Emissary,” Cooper starts. “Any time we waste just gives _Them_ more opportunities to find us. _They_ might even block this option from us. In fact,” he says with conviction, “I think we should just head out there tonight and get it done.”

Sam looks at him sharply while Blaine tilts his head to the side. Cooper, however, gets more excited as he thinks about it. “Seriously, the only reason we had to talk to the Hales was out of courtesy but there _are_ no Hales left, at least no one living in the Hale property.”

“What about the uncle?” Blaine asks.

“No one has seen him since Derek Hale left,” Cooper answers. “Maybe they left together?”

“If they left then they have given up their claim on the Nemeton,” Sam says firmly. “If the uncle is around, well, he’s just one werewolf, right? It’s not like we’re dealing with a pack. It might be easier to deal with him...and then only if he can prove he can keep his claim on the Nemeton.”

“Sam...” Blaine says worriedly.

“He’s right, B,” Cooper says softly. “The rules about this sort of thing are thousands of years old. The strong have to stay strong to keep what they have, if they don’t, they lose it. Besides,” Cooper adds brightly, “it’s not like it has to be a fight to the death. We can call for first blood or something.”

Blaine finally nods in acceptance but everyone on the table is aware that if this man is all that stands between Blaine and a cure and if it means that he would have to die, Sam would not hesitate. And Sam these days could actually do it, too. Blaine isn’t the only one who’s changed.

“So we go tonight?” Sam asks.

“We go tonight,” Cooper confirms, but he still looks at Blaine.

Blaine nods. “Tonight. Let’s get this done.”


	4. Chapter 3

Isaac is in his room catching up on schoolwork when he hears a thud and a muffled curse from Scott’s room. He rolls his eyes as he can guess what his alpha has been doing. He debates for a second on whether he should intervene or let it go when he decides that he should do something about it or put up with questions why he didn’t. He didn’t know when he turned into Scott’s keeper...oh wait, yeah, it was when he chose Scott over Derek. With a sigh, he puts down his pen and saunters over next door.

Isaac can’t help but smirk when he sees Scott grimacing while seated on the floor, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. The sheen of sweat on his body showing that he’s been at it for quite some time now, enough that even his enhanced stamina is being taxed. Looking up he sees the pull-up bar that was on the doorway to Scott’s bathroom has been wrenched free from where it was screwed in.

“Didn’t Chris say to take it easy for the next couple of days?” Isaac asks with a drawl. “This doesn’t look like you’re taking it easy.”

“We’re short-handed,” comes Scott’s gruff reply as he rises fluidly from the floor.

“Exactly,” Isaac bites back. “Which means you won’t do us any good if something **does** happen and you’re too exhausted to do anything about it.”

Scott exhales and looks up at Isaac sheepishly. “You’re right, I know you’re right,” he mutters as he picks up his towel and starts to wipe himself dry. “It’s just I can’t take not doing anything. It’s driving me crazy.”

“There’s that math problem Mr. Owens gave us—”

“Done.”

“English paper due on—”

“Finished that last week.”

“Histo—”

“Yesterday.”

“The—”

“Extra credit paper is on my desk,” Scott says glumly. “I finished proof-reading it after breakfast this morning.”

Isaac stands there blinking for a minute. “Did you sleep anytime at all these last two weeks?”

“Yes,” Scott growls out. “Chris made Mom do bed checks when he caught me sneaking out the second night.”

Isaac burst out laughing. “I’m sorry!” He says when Scott turns his scowl on him. “I’m sorry I can’t help it!” Isaac snickers between breaths. “The big bad alpha Scott McCall has a curfew enforced by his mummy!” And Isaac dissolves into laughter.

Scott’s mouth twitches a bit but he refuses to give Isaac the satisfaction. Instead he growls low in his throat, “Mama’s boy, am I?” he mutters then lunges at his friend. Isaac lets out a startled squeak that he will deny making until his dying day when the impact of Scott’s body knocks him to the floor.

Fortunately for Isaac’s dignity, Scott didn’t seem to notice his unmanly squeak but unfortunately for Isaac’s dignity, after a brief scuffle, Chris’ training has paid off and Scott quickly gets the upper hand. Isaac finds himself pinned by the smaller boy. He tells himself that he lost to an _alpha_ so it should not be as embarrassing as it feels that he was taken out so quickly. He sees Scott’s look of triumph and while he’s pleased that he got Scott out of his funk, he has to keep his alpha from getting too big a head.

“Eeeeyuck!” Isaac grimaces. “Dude you stink! When was the last time you took a bath?” Isaac doesn’t see the warning sign when Scott’s eyes narrows and carries on, like the Titanic. “Well it does forecast rain tomorrow so I guess you—yaaahh! Dude that’s so gross! Get off of me!”

Scott holding Isaac down tight, grins at the huge swath of spit he left after licking Isaac from jaw to temple. “Who’s the stinker now, Isaac?”

“You are!”

Scott starts to hack-and-haw and Isaac’s eyes grow big as he realizes his predicament and knowing with utter certainty that Scott does _not_ bluff.

“I am! I’m the stinker!”

Scott looks proud and swallows whatever it was in his mouth to Isaac’s disgust but he does get up and lets Isaac go. “And don’t you forget it!”

Scott walks into the bathroom presumably to take a shower, at least Isaac hopes so. While Scott doesn’t really stink, he does smell more...musky than usual. And while it isn’t unpleasant, it is rather distracting. When the water starts running, Isaac lets out a sigh of relief and, with a mischievous smirk, picks up one of Scott’s clean shirts and uses it to wipe Scott’s drool off.

He accidentally kicks the pull-up bar and he bends down to pick it up. He sees where Scott had twisted the metal and where it was yanked off the door frame. Isaac shakes his head, Scott is usually the paragon of control but when it comes to three people he can lose it: Melissa. Allison. Stiles.

Isaac dumps the bar into the waste basket knowing that Scott will get rid of it later. He thinks about Stiles and admits that he is a little worried but they checked in on time last Sunday and everything was going well. They are expected to be back any day now but Scott won’t be happy until Stiles is back and his pack is complete.

Isaac is so deep in thought he doesn’t notice when Scott has finished his shower and is already half-dressed. Isaac sees him frowning at the shirt Isaac used to clean himself up with and he can’t help but let an evil smirk cross his face. Scott looks up at him but instead of scowling he just smiles and shakes his head and throws the shirt into the hamper.

“Thanks for getting me out of my head,” he says, sitting beside Isaac on the bed.

“Don’t worry so much Scott,” Isaac says patiently. He knows by now that Scott is a chronic worrier. “We all talked about it, it needed to be done and this was the best way.”

“I know,” Scott concedes. “But I still don’t like it.”

Aiden and Ethan were sent on a quest to atone for their part in Deucalion’s madness, especially for the innocent deaths that they had a hand in, especially their parts that led to the deaths of Erica and Boyd. They both wanted to stay in Beacon Hills and were willing to submit to Scott but Scott and the others found it difficult to look at them without thinking of the damage they had caused.

However Scott’s pack has become the de facto guardian of Beacon Hills and the Nemeton and while they have proven to be strong, having two additional wolves—who were proven warriors and willing to be betas under Scott—could not be dismissed lightly. There was also the problem of the Nemeton being activated, becoming a beacon for the supernatural.

To prove themselves and to make up for what they have done, Aiden and Ethan willingly gave up their alpha spark in a ritual to ward the Nemeton and agreed to put themselves in Deaton’s and Morrell’s hands to atone for their offences. So the Emissaries decided that the twins go on a vision quest of sorts with either Morrell or Deaton to accompany them as their guide.

In addition, Stiles and Danny were judged fit and started to train under the two druids. It was supposed to be just Stiles but Morrell pointed out that Stiles will put Scott first, so to counter that, she agreed to take Danny as her acolyte. Stiles will be the Beacon Hills Pack Emissary while Danny will be trained to become the Nemeton Emissary.

It was decided that Morrell should go with the twins and to bring Danny with her to begin his training but Stiles proposed to go with them instead and take part in the quest. He felt that he was no less guilty than the twins were for causing damage when he was possessed by a dark spirit after Scott, Allison and he woke the Nemeton.

Stiles caused a lot of damage and it took the entire pack and their parents to finally stop him. No one blamed him but Stiles still felt guilty and he wanted to feel cleansed and he wanted to atone. Scott was going to object, that Stiles was not guilty for something someone using his body did but Chris supported the decision and subtly signalled Scott to let it stand. Scott allowed himself to be overridden. Chris later told Scott his reason for this was if Stiles comes back vouching for the twins (and Morrell), it will ease Scott’s mind about their trustworthiness. It also allowed the druids’ lessons to spread out and allow Danny time to bond with Scott and his pack now that he’s actively taking part of things happening in town.

All of it made sense and Scott did give his permission, but he was still unhappy about it. The alpha could see why it had to be done but Scott missed and worried over his friend.

“Don’t worry so much,” Isaac says again. “He’ll be back before you know it.”

Scott is about to reply when his phone starts to ring. “Hey, doc, what’s up?” he asks. Isaac assumes it must be Deaton making the call. Isaac quickly goes on alert when he sees Scott tense up. “On our way. Isaac’s here, we’ll rendezvous at the Hale house in twenty minutes. Isaac and I will be there in five and we can secure the area.”

Scott turns the phone off and looks at Isaac.

“Something tripped the wards near the Nemeton. We’re heading to the Hale house and secure it. We’ll wait for the others and we’ll take it from there.”

“You finish getting dressed,” Isaac says as he takes out his phone. “I’ll call Melissa and tell her to prepare for possible incoming.”

Scott nods and quickly finishes dressing up. Isaac jogs to his room quickly to get his jacket as he calls Melissa and lets her know that something is up and to prepare for the worst. It doesn’t hurt to have someone at the hospital prepared in case there might be injuries.

Isaac hopes that it doesn’t come to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the fourth version of my story, version three was written after seeing the second half of Season 3 and I tried incorporating the Nogitsune and bringing in Kira but I had written too much and I would have had to dump too much stuff I had already written. So in this AU Stiles was possessed but not by the Nogitsune. Terrible things also happened but the good guys won, yay! And somehow in all of that Danny (finally) got involved with the pack.


	5. Chapter 4

The Argents are the first to arrive at the Hale house after Scott and Isaac. Allison spots Scott’s ‘all-clear’-mark by the second oak tree and gives her father a nod. They pull up in front of the burned out remains of the Hale house.

Allison is out of the SUV before it fully stops and opens the back. She starts prepping her and her dad’s gear as Chris walks to meet up with Scott as he jogs out of the woods.

“Perimeter is clear,” Scott says in a normal tone. “Isaac is keeping watch just in case but I think the intruders are all at the Nemeton, they didn’t send anyone here.”

Chris nods. “I spoke with the Sheriff; he finally got a fresh lead on the Pendleton case so he has to follow it up. He said don’t break any laws he can’t ignore but to call him if we need the Sheriff to show up.”

Allison joins them, handing her father his gun belt while she secures her quiver behind her. “Lydia is on her way to the hospital to be with Melissa. Danny picked Deaton up and should be here soon.”

“I don’t like this,” Chris says. “The new moon is coming up, and while I’m no expert, the few rituals I do know that are this close to a new moon are not good.”

“Isaac and I will scout ahead,” Scott says with quiet authority. “We’ll get a headcount and see what they are up to. You guys get the rest of your gear. When Deaton and Danny get here, grab them and meet us at the Bluff.”

Chris and Allison nod as Scott jogs back to the woods. The Argents move back to their vehicle. They both take their stun rods, or bangsticks as Stiles likes to call them. Chris keeps his sidearm but chooses a crossbow over the heavier firearms. If they were just dealing with cultists, it will be hard to explain wounds caused by military-grade ammunition but arrows and crossbow bolts could simply be excused as a hunting ‘mishap’. Allison settles on her bow but also adds a few more ring daggers to the ones she habitually carries and a brace of throwing knives. They just finish locking up when Deaton and Danny arrive.

A few quick pleasantries and the four quickly move towards the Bluff. They know something is wrong because almost immediately they are met by a golden-eyed Isaac.

“Whoever they are,” he says without pausing for breath, “they know about us. They created a boundary using mountain ash.”

“How far from the Nemeton?” Deaton asks.

“The ward line we found is a little over a hundred feet from the Nemeton,” Isaac says to everyone’s shock.

“That’s...a lot of ash,” Danny says awed.

“There’s more,” Isaac continues. Allison steals a look at Isaac. She was staying alert, listening to Isaac’s report while keeping watch of her surroundings but Isaac sounded _worried_. She doubts the others picked it up, they didn’t know Isaac that well, but she did. “Scott says it smells different.”

Deaton looks grim and without a word the group picks up their pace. They soon catch up to Scott who they find standing still, head cocked to one side. When he sees them arrive he says in a low voice, “I’ve been trying to listen in. I heard at least three distinct voices, all male. They are in a rush, something about getting the ritual done and leaving before anyone knows they are here.”

Deaton quickly kneels by the ash, Danny quickly joins him.

“There’s something different about this,” Deaton murmurs. “This is mountain ash but they added something...”

“Something metallic,” Danny says, “I can almost taste it...like copper.”

“Blood,” Deaton breathes out, his eyes wide. “They added blood to the warding line.”

“So I can’t just push through it?” Scott asks.

“No!” Deaton says swiftly. “You mustn’t! This reeks of magic! No telling what will happen if you try to break through. Nothing with even a hint of the supernatural can cross this without triggering it and I don’t know what will happen if it does.”

“Can we break through it?” Scott asks impatiently.

“Yes,” Deaton says confidently. “But I have to get some things from my car. I didn’t expect to run into this.”

“Go,” Scott says firmly, “Isaac go with him.”

With a quick nod, the two quickly head back to the Hale house.

“Scott,” Chris calls out quietly. When Scott turns his way, he continues. “Alan said nothing with a hint of the supernatural can cross. Not all of us here are more than human.”

Scott blinks for a moment. He wants to say “no!” but he knows he needs to know what’s going on. Also the Argents are arguably the best fighters they have, even without supernatural abilities. Plus with Chris there, he won’t let anything happen to Allison.

He looks worriedly at the ward line at first but Danny can hear the unspoken question and answers it. “They should be able to cross safely,” he says confidently. “They have to allow animals to cross or the ward will be triggering all the time.”

“Go,” he says, making a snap decision, “and head towards the Bluff anyway. It should give you a good view, provide cover and it’ll give us someplace to head towards when Deaton breaks through the ward.”

Chris nods and he signals Allison to stay put as he steps up to the ward line and quickly goes over it. Chris grins as he hears everyone exhale loudly behind him. Allison quickly crosses the line as well.

“Maintain radio silence,” Scott says. “We don’t know if they have sharp hearing. Use your judgment if you think it better to withdraw or engage, but if you do decide to fight, I can’t promise you how quickly back-up can arrive. Remember, you just need to interrupt the ritual, steal or break one of the pieces then they can’t go through with it. You don’t need to stick around.”

Chris can’t help but smile proudly at Scott. He’s taken to his lessons really well. He’s learning to be a leader, not just taking everything on himself; he’s allowing others to take part and trusting them to get the job done. He’s so proud that when he says, “Yes, sir,” he says it without irony.

“Also,” Danny adds quickly, “there’s a big chance that when the ward comes down, it’ll come down with a really big bang.”

“Got it,” Allison answers him. She smiles at Scott who smiles back at her, Allison quickly but quietly follows her father deeper into the woods towards the Nemeton.

Watching Allison and Chris disappear into the night, Scott literally keeps an ear out for them. But he also wants to keep from fretting too much so he turns to Danny.

“Hey Danny, what did Deaton mean by this thing reeking of magic? Isn’t what you guys do kinda like magic?”

“Yes and no,” Danny answers. When he sees the look on frustration on Scott’s face he continues with a grin. “Wait let me explain. It’s a matter of context. Yes, what we do looks like magic but that’s because most people don’t understand what we are doing, they don’t see the connections, the cause and effect. If you called Allison on your cellphone and talked to her in front of someone from the 1600’s he would think you were using magic.”

“So this ward line was created in a way that Deaton doesn’t understand?”

“If that were true, he wouldn’t know how to collapse it,” Danny explains. “Context. To us, Scott, what we do is part of the natural order of things. Not always understood by most but it has its place. When Deaton or even Ms. Morrell say ‘magic’ they mean unnatural things. Things that shouldn’t be.”

“I shudder to think what they consider ‘unnatural’,” Scott says.

“Well the Darach would be one,” Danny supplies, “even the kanima would be considered unnatural. And a pack full of alphas...you know I never understood that. How can there be a pack of alphas? By submitting to Deucalion, didn’t that mean that they were _not_ alphas?”

“Asking the wrong werewolf here, dude,” Scott says and then with a grin, “maybe you can ask Ethan when he gets back.”

Danny snorts. “I already did.”

“What did he say?” Scott says, honestly intrigued because he didn’t quite understand it himself.

“Nothing,” Danny snorts, “he just looked embarrassed and changed the subject.”

“I bet he did,” Scott says with an innocent look that would have fooled no one.

“Get your mind out of the gutter McCall,” Danny says with a huff but Scott can see his lips twitch.

Scott barely hears the Argents, they are incredibly good at moving quietly. He has to focus his own alpha-enhanced senses just to keep track of them. Judging from their speed, they should be at the Bluff—really just a group of boulders clustered together at a rise which allows a high vantage point looking down into the clearing where the Nemeton stands—fairly soon.

Scott turns back to Danny. “So ‘us’, huh?” When Danny looks at him with a puzzled expression, Scott elaborates, “You just grouped yourself with Deaton and Morrell.”

“And Stiles,” Danny says softly. He shrugs, “I always knew weird shit was happening but the worst part was not knowing, because I didn’t know where the next hit was going to come from.” Danny looks up to meet Scott’s eyes. “I know I came late into the game, but I never felt more like I belonged than here.”

“Besides,” Danny says with a grin, “I get to do magic.”

Before Scott can say anything to that, Deaton and Isaac appear. It seemed that Isaac had carried Deaton to speed things up.

“Not if I can help it,” Deaton says grimly.

“What’s so bad about the blood?” Scott asks.

“Blood is probably the most powerful reagent you can use,” Deaton says as he starts unpacking all sorts of paraphernalia from his bag. Danny quickly moves beside him to help. “We don’t have time to get into the fine points but let me simplify: magic, for lack of a better term, needs sacrifice to work. Blood is the most powerful sacrifice you can make because it—more than anything—symbolizes life. It ties man, the natural and the supernatural together, nothing is more powerful.  But precisely because it is so powerful that it can also corrupt; especially if you get into the habit of forcibly taking the blood of others and using it; but conversely there is nothing more powerful than blood willingly given.”

Deaton quickly arranges things to his liking and starts a low chant as he starts burning some herbs and waving it in a set pattern. Danny steps back, obviously out of his depth but he keeps his eyes on Deaton.

“How powerful?”

Danny looks at Isaac. Scott stands beside Isaac waiting for Danny to answer.

“Well, if you believe in that sort of thing, a willing sacrifice once saved the souls of all mankind, two thousand years ago.”

Isaac blinks. “That’s real?”

“Is Jesus the son of God?” Danny asks. “I dunno about that, but there is a reason why the Catholic Church has the most powerful wards on the planet. They understand the power of blood and sacrifice. Unfortunately that knowledge also makes them very susceptible to corruption.”

The three teens suddenly fall silent as a red shimmer appears like a misty wall over the ash. Deaton opens a vial and with a word throws its contents at the shimmering wall and as the fine dust sticks to it and seems to slowly eat the wall. Deaton doesn’t stop chanting and sweat starts to bead his forehead. Scott can smell ozone in the air and the hairs at the back of his neck start to rise. He can feel an almost oppressive weight bearing down on him. He knows his eyes are flashing red, he can feel himself involuntarily shifting.

“Is it about to come down?” Scott asks, tensing.

“No Scott,” Danny says with a frown, “Deaton is just about to start.”

Scott looks worriedly and then towards the spot where the Argents disappeared to, hoping he didn’t send them to their deaths.


	6. Chapter 5

Allison slowly climbs up to one of the boulders of the Bluffs, lying flat on her stomach. She can hear her father coming up behind her. Once she is in position, she pulls out her binoculars.

She turns on the nightvision feature of her binoculars. She sees three men...no, one man and two boys her age. She could see that they have already laid out the things they need for the ritual. There is enough light (they seem to have brought their own lights with them) that she switches between nightvision and normal view to pick up details. They used what looks like ash and some other powder-like substance to create a rather complicated arcane circle on the Nemeton stump itself. It has different colors: black, white, ochre, yellow, an electric blue and a rusty-red. There are candles and other bits like feathers, bones and clay bowls filled with some liquid.

The man was standing with a book in one hand and holding a device on the other. The device looks like a kind of arcane sextant and he seems to be using it against the sky. He’s constantly checking the book as well. Allison figures he’s the ritualist, and possibly the leader of this group. She almost lets out a gasp when he turns and she sees his face clearly. That tiny part of Allison, the one that isn’t involved in staying alive and getting as much intelligence as she can, that part that is all-girl, can’t help but notice how ridiculously good-looking he is. And rather familiar but she knows she would definitely remember that face if she met him before. She notices how focused he is, ignoring what is going around him as he concentrates on reading the book and setting up for the ritual.

She can feel her father preparing the long-range listening device so they can eavesdrop on them. In the meantime she keeps her watch on the occultists.

One of the boys, who can’t be that much older than her, stands tall with his back to the Nemeton and looking out in the woods. Something about the way he stands screams ‘danger’ to her. He’s tall and even in the thick jacket she could see that he’s all lean muscle. He’s carrying a hatchet and a machete in both hands. Allison absently notes that while both of those are rather dangerous weapons, they can also be excused as camping gear.

As her father places one of the earbuds into her ear she finally turns her focus on the other boy. She first thinks that it’s a kid as he is so much shorter than the other two but he’s also a boy her age. There’s an exotic cast to his features that she can’t place. She can tell that most people would just think he was Caucasian but she was trained to see details and she can see that he isn’t, at least not entirely. He has a mop of curls and when he tilts his head she almost makes a noise. The light catches his eyes and it shines like molten gold.

She is so caught up in his eyes that she almost doesn’t realize that unlike the other two, Goldie seems to be in pain. But when she does she notes that his face—that face!—is all scrunched up and he’s holding his stomach like he’s in pain. She wonders if he’s a prisoner and Ritualist and Hatchet are going to sacrifice him? But she notices the lack of restraints and that the other two aren’t guarding him at all so he must be there on his own free will.

She turns to her father and she signs that she sees three. Her father nods. He switches the listening device on while she goes back to watching and switching to thermal vision. There might be more of them hiding in the woods.

She doesn’t spot any but she is shocked at what she sees that she passes the binoculars to her dad. He quickly looks and frowns. Ritualist and Hatchet register normal body temperatures but Goldie is white hot. She’s only seen that color when looking at furnaces and other heat sources.

Chris hands her back the binoculars, she continues to watch while she and her dad listen in.

“What’s taking so long, Coop?” Hatchet says testily.

“I want to make sure,” ‘Coop’ replies without any animosity. “I’ve never done this before Sam and forgive me if I don’t want my brother to get hurt because I got careless.”

“Sorry,” ‘Sam’ says but the tension is still apparent in his voice and in his stance. “I’m just getting a bad feeling and I want to get this done now.”

Allison sees Coop—and she wonders what kind of a name is ‘Coop’?—frown. “How long have you been getting the willies?” he asks. Allison takes note that Coop takes Sam’s danger sense seriously.

“For a while now...maybe ten minutes?” Allison frowns as that time frame is too close to when she and her dad arrived at the Bluffs. She spares a quick glance at her dad and she sees him meet her glance. He nods, sharing her concern.

“Something is happening,” Goldie says with a groan. Sam quickly runs to his side putting both weapons gently on the ground as he holds on to Goldie.

“Blaine, is it the wards?” Sam asks and he looks grim when Blaine nods. He picks him up effortlessly bridal style and quickly jumps up to the Nemeton. Allison takes note that Sam, despite the thermal readings, is definitely not normal. He quickly but carefully walks across the ashes and powders and sets Blaine gently down on the center of the circle.

“Coop we gotta do this, we have incoming and we might not get another shot,” Sam says as he quickly jumps down and picks up his weapons. When Coop looks at him, Sam adds, “I trust you, man. We both do. You got this.”

Coop nods and puts down the fancy sextant. He climbs up to the Nemeton but outside the arcane circle. He opens the book to a prepared page and starts to chant.

Allison puts down her binoculars and pulls the earbud out of her ear. She knows they have to do something but waits for orders from her dad. He is silent for a moment and she forces herself to be patient, she knows he’s weighing pros and cons on whether to engage or retreat and once he decides that, how to go about it. She doesn’t say anything even though she wants to, the more patient she is, the quicker he’ll get to a decision.

“We interrupt the ritual and then disengage,” he says quickly and forcefully. “Too many unknowns and we don’t have back-up. You engage Sam, assume he’s a wolf or equivalent, take him down but don’t kill him, not unless you have to. I’ll take on Coop and take the book. I don’t want to mess with the circle in case something worse happens but it looks like they can’t continue without the book. Once I have it, we head back to the others. Got it?”

“Got it,” Allison replies and quickly stands and jumps down to the ground and breaks off running. She knows that while she’s the better fighter her father is more resourceful. Taking on Sam wouldn’t be harder than fighting Scott or Aiden, unless he’s something completely new. She’s not cocky enough to think she can beat him but she’s confident she can keep him occupied while her dad deals with Coop and she hopes Blaine is as incapacitated as he looks because of the three, he is the obvious supernatural.

“Coop! I’ve got incoming!”

She hears Sam call out. She pulls out her bow and nocks an arrow while running towards the Nemeton. She stops long enough to fire an arrow, which she does in one graceful movement, she hopes it will get him but if not, it will hopefully throw him off-balance. As she releases her arrow she sees her dad rushing by her, crossbow presumably aimed at Coop. As he stops to fire, she drops her bow to the ground and pulls out her bangstick (she curses Stiles as she can’t help but use that term now) and a ring dagger and charges Sam.

She sees Sam throw the hatchet at her dad while stepping out of the arrow’s path. “DAD!” she yells out in warning. She sees her dad throw himself into a forward roll, discarding the crossbow. The hatchet whistles inches above him but the crossbow bolt goes wild, missing his target. Feeling the anger building—he could have killed him!—she doesn’t allow herself to be ruled by it. Instead she channels that anger to give her strength and speed.

She thrusts with her dagger knowing he’ll block it, which he does, but it leaves his side open to her kick. She snaps her leg forward and feels it connect but he just takes it. He grunts at the impact but doesn’t seem to be fazed. He swings the machete around and she steps back allowing it to just miss her. She realizes that Sam means business. He’s not holding back or fighting to subdue her. If she didn’t yell out that warning, her father would have had a hatchet to his head and if she was a just a bit slower, he would have buried his machete into her ribs. Eyes narrowing she decides to pull out all the stops. Using the momentum of her back step, she throws her hands up in the air and executes a backflip and she feels grim satisfaction when she feels her feet connect with Sam’s chin as he rushed forward to engage her.

Landing into a crouch, she hears a crackle and from the corner of her eye she sees her dad fly back. It seems they have warded the Nemeton and this time, they have warded it to everything except themselves. She needs to end this _now_.

She lunges forward with her bangstick, she’ll over-extend herself doing this and leave herself wide-open to a counter but she’s betting on being faster than Sam. She wants to take Sam out quickly and join her father to take Coop out. But to her chagrin she discovers that Sam is just as fast as he is tough and he uses the machete to parry the bangstick. He hits it with so much force that she almost drops it—Sam seems to be almost as strong as the wolves! Allison realizes she’s in real danger, she underestimated Sam really badly. She made assumptions on his strength, speed, toughness and skill based on nothing and she’s going to pay for that mistake with her life.

When Sam sees the sparks fly out, his eyes narrow and before Allison can do anything else he raises his foot lightning-quick and plants a kick squarely into her chest. She feels like she got hit with a sledgehammer as the air rushes out of her. As she flies back and lands hard a few feet away, Allison’s afraid that Sam may have possibly cracked a few ribs with that kick.

She finds it hard to concentrate and struggles to find her breath. She forces herself to roll to the side, swallowing the pain, expecting to see the machete blade to strike where she landed but is shocked to hear a gunshot ring out instead.

Allison forces herself into a crouch, preparing to dodge out of the way. She still finds it difficult to breathe but she sees looks up and sees Sam fall to his knees and then face first on the ground, red staining his back. She looks up to see her father with his pistol out, smoke curling out of the barrel.

“Oh God no...” Allison hears Coop’s soft exclamation. But she ignores it at the enormity of what she has done. Allison looks up and meets her father’s eyes, and what she sees there makes Allison feel a cold weight pull at her heart. She sees steely determination but sorrow at having to do this. But Allison knows he’s not to blame, she’s responsible for this. She got overconfident, even cocky, and because of that, to save her, she may have forced her father to take a life. Her father would never hesitate to do this for her, which is why she is always careful never to put herself in a situation which would force his hand but she just did that tonight. She looks down at the _boy_ in front of her as the blood begins to pool under him. He’s just her age! He’s just a kid! _They_ attacked first. He was just defending his friends! What is the matter with her?

“Sam?”

Allison looks up to see Blaine standing in the middle of the circle, and the expression on his face is devastating.

“Blaine...don’t...” Allison hears Coop start to beg. But Allison only has eyes on Blaine as she sees him looking at Sam’s still form.

“SAM!”

Then something happens, something that makes Allison step back. Blaine’s grieving expression transforms into monstrous, inhuman fury. His eyes, all of it, turn jet black, his canines lengthen into fangs, and his nails grow into talons. Veins start to pop up under his skin as if black bile is being pumped through them. He opens his mouth so wide his chin almost touches his chest and he howls his despair in a keen so discordant and painful Allison covers her ears.

Her dad recovers first and plants himself between her and Blaine. Blaine looks at her dad and his expression is no longer human, it is feral and completely alien. But she recognizes that look of malevolence warping Blaine’s face when he sees the still smoking gun in her father’s hand.

He turns his eyes from the gun to her father and gives him such a look of pure hatred that she knows with certainty that she will become an orphan tonight.


	7. Chapter 6

Blaine lifts his hands and a red shimmering mist-like light rises from the ward circle around the Nemeton and is joined by an another swirl shimmering red light that flows out of the surrounding trees—presumably from the ward line she and her father crossed earlier—that form into a spiral with Blaine at the center.

“Blaine! Don’t do it!” Allison is vaguely aware that Coop is shouting but she ignores it as she hobbles towards her father, knowing that he needs her.

Her dad puts himself between her and Blaine and she can hear him shouting to get away but she ignores that as she grasps her dagger tighter as she gets her second wind and jogs to his side. She dropped her bangstick when Sam kicked her so she pulls out another dagger. This is her fault; she isn’t going to compound her mistake by leaving her father alone.

When all the red mist disappears into Blaine, he leaps—almost fluidly, definitely inhumanly—forward and his body starts to shift but not like the wolves. He seems to melt like water as his talons and fangs grow even more pronounced and his skin begins to darken to solid black. Black feather-like things explode from his back and the back of his arms and form a crest around his head. His nose extends to something beak-like yet still retaining the sharp fangs. Bony plates and spikes start to push out of his skin, which seemed to have grown a thick black furry pelt. She suddenly finds herself rooted on the spot. The area around her darkens and grows cold and everything sounds muffled. She is sure her father is yelling at her to run but it sounds like it’s coming at a great distance. Worse still she can hear her mother telling her to run away. But she knows that if she moves—and she knows this with absolute certainty—she will die. She knows this isn’t rational, that if she stands here then that monster Blaine has become will certainly gut her but she can’t move. To move is to die but as the creature stalks forward it seems like death is coming for her anyway.

Allison prepares for the sharp talons breaking into her skin when she sees Coop tackle the creature, grabbing on to its back, miraculously avoiding the spikes. And the spell is broken, the light—oh blessed light!—and the sounds come rushing back. She stumbles but manages to stay on her feet. She is dimly aware that her father was similarly affected as she tries to catch her breath.

Coop is still hanging on to the creature’s back—who seems to have shot up an additional three feet—while it just stands there, something that sounds like thunder echo in the clearing and Allison realizes that it’s growling.

“Blaine! No! Don’t do it! Please don’t!” he shouts at him. “Go to Sam! Sam needs you! Ignore them! You can’t spill human blood! Don’t let them win when we’re so close to ending this! Please!”

Allison tears her eyes away from Coop struggling with the monster to look at Sam and sure enough, she can see him take a shallow breath. The relief that cuts through her is so strong it almost drives her to her knees. _We’re not going to die!_

Allison can hear her heart beating fast. She wants to yell at the monster and tell it to listen to Coop that Sam is still alive and not to hurt her or her father but she knows to open her mouth would invite destruction.

Allison wrestles with her fear, it’s uncharacteristic and possibly being forced on her. Fortunately all it takes is to see her father still standing with his gun trained on that thing. Both of them know for certain that mere bullets aren’t even going to slow him down but she takes inspiration from his courage and finds the willpower to fight back against the fear that is crippling her.

The creature looks at Coop, and for a tense moment Allison wonders if it will kill Coop, when it slowly flows back into Blaine except his eyes are still black, his lips blood-red and the dark veins still pulse under his now pale-white skin.

Blaine turns to face them and Allison can still feel the malevolence in his eyes so strongly she actually takes a step back.

“We give up, okay?” Coop says, to their shock, holding his hands up. Did he just surrender to them? “We surrender! Just let Blaine near Sam, no one needs to die.”

Allison is sure that he meant that any deaths at this point will be hers and her father’s, not Sam.

“Scott! Stand down! They surrendered!” her dad shouts out. He then nods at Blaine who runs to Sam. Allison sees him kneel down and gently turns Sam over. He cradles him tenderly and she swears she can hear him whine. He looks up at Coop and Coop seems to understand something unsaid.

“Look, I need to get some things from the bag to give to Blaine so he can help Sam,” Coop says, hands still up. “You can keep your gun on me, but I don’t know if I can hold him back if Sam dies.”

Scott and Isaac arrive and Allison lets out a breath of relief.

“Go help your friend,” Scott says as he and Isaac put themselves between them and the others. Coop rushes to the bag and brings it to where Blaine and Sam are. He digs in and pulls out what looks like a conch shell the size of a fist and a woven pouch.

“Are you all right?” Allison looks up to see a worried-looking Scott.

“I got my breath back and I think I may have cracked a few ribs,” she answers, pushing her guilt down, now is not the time for it. “That guy Sam hits _hard_.”

“Chris?”

“They warded the Nemeton, I couldn’t get close enough to interrupt them,” her dad answers. “He was fighting to kill, Scott, if I didn’t shoot him he could have killed Allison.”

“You think it’s a trick?” Scott asks, “Getting us to let our guard down while they heal up one of their own?”

“You’re the human polygraph,” Chris says seriously, “you tell me.”

“That Coop guy is sincere,” Isaac answers instead. “And Black-Eyed Pea is practically projecting; he’s upset about...Sam, right?” Allison nods in confirmation. Isaac continues, “I think at least those two aren’t interested in starting up the fight again.”

Coop and Blaine have somehow removed Sam’s jacket and shirt, revealing a ridiculously defined muscular torso. Allison can see the exit wound and she grimaces seeing how near it is to the heart. She can just imagine the damage the bullet must have caused. Unless Sam heals like a werewolf, they might be facing an enraged Blaine after all. But she can see him breathing—shallow, irregular breaths to be sure—so Sam is still alive. Barely.

As Coop places some leaves from the pouch on the wound, Blaine raises his arm and with one of his talons, cuts his arm open causing blood to spill on Sam.

“What’s going on?” Deaton and Danny finally catch up. “Oh good gods...” Deaton says as he sees what’s happening.

“Isn’t that bad?” Scott asks. “They’re using blood.”

“He’s using his own blood,” Deaton answers. “Willingly given, that’s why the wards were so hard to break. I assumed they had taken someone else’s blood to power it, not his own.”

Blaine takes the conch shell and puts it on top of the dried leaves and the wound, the others watch as the blood starts to flow back into Sam’s chest. The shell starts to turn blood red and begins to throb. It soon looks like that Blaine is holding a pulsating heart over Sam’s chest.

When all the blood flows back into Sam, Blaine takes the conch, which now seems to resemble a heart, and his mouth opens impossibly wide again and he _eats_ the thing in one bite. Allison can hear the squish and some blood escapes his lips. She almost throws up at the sight but forces herself to watch. Blaine then leans down and kisses Sam.

“Oh that isn’t right.”

Allison is shocked to hear Danny of all people saying that until she realizes that Blaine is not kissing Sam, he’s feeding him the blood. Before she can think too much on it, she sees the color flowing back into Sam and she can see him starting to breathe normally.

She also sees Blaine slowly turning back to normal until he’s just a boy again. And Allison is pretty sure that they are kissing now. She’s knows for sure when Sam’s hand reaches up and grabs the back of Blaine’s neck and he starts kissing back just as hard.

The tension in the air that screamed “danger!” evaporates and Allison begins to infinitesimally relax. It’s over. She glances at her father who feels it too as he holsters his gun. As they stand there catching their breath, they realize that Sam and Blaine are _still_ kissing and a new kind of tension starts infecting everyone in the clearing.

She hears the two wolves shift awkwardly and can feel Danny’s smirk even if she can’t see his expression and she’s so relieved that the danger has passed that she can’t help but form a grin herself. Scott and Isaac can be such _guys_. And if she still wasn’t pissed at him for nearly braining her dad with a hatchet, she can admit that seeing Sam shirtless and bloodstained and dirty, locking lips with Blaine—who has the ridiculously longest lashes she has ever seen, Lydia will burst a vein when she sees him—is pretty hot. She sees Coop’s face and she almost loses her breath when she sees the gentle, exasperated yet relieved expression on his face. It’s just not fair that a man can be that beautiful. And familiar, why is so sure she’s seen him before?

He gets on his feet and turns to look at them. He walks towards them, palms up.

“Um, they’re going to be awhile,” he says apologetically. “Sam needs the reassurance that Blaine is okay.”

“Wait, _Sam_ needs reassurance?” Allison couldn’t help blurting out. “But he’s the one who almost died!”

Coop opens his mouth then closes it. He seems to struggle and then visibly gives up. “It’s complicated?” he offers sheepishly.

“You can start by telling us what you are doing here,” Scott says, taking control of the situation. His eyes dart to Isaac who steps back—seriously, how someone so tall can make himself inconspicuous is beyond her—and moves off. Allison knows that Scott’s making him keep an eye on the other two, who are still kissing. She’s got to admire their stamina.

Coop looks at Scott for a minute and then seems to make a decision.

“We came here looking for Talia Hale to get her permission to use the Nemeton to perform a ritual to cure my brother,” he says. “When we got here we found out that the Hale pack is no more and that if there are any Hales still around they aren’t in town.

“We also heard about all the deaths so we assumed that either the territory has no pack or the territory is being fought over. We thought it worth the risk to come here, perform the ritual and leave, hopefully without anyone noticing until we’re long gone.

“It’s a cleansing and purification ritual,” he says hurriedly, “it isn’t going to harm or pollute the Nemeton.”

“Your companion nearly killed one of our own,” Scott says without inflection.

“I’m sorry but they did attack us first,” he says looking genuinely contrite and Allison can’t help but look down in shame, she and her dad are going to talk long and hard about this and she’ll take her lumps, “and Sam gets...overzealous when it comes to Blaine’s safety.”

Coop drags his hand through his hair and Allison notices how tired he looks. “Look, I don’t mean you any harm but I’m not going to get on Sam’s case either. We’re being hunted, and the hunt has gone on for months. We didn’t know who you were and you came out with arrows flying, I’m not going to berate him for not realizing that you meant to injure and not kill.”

“How long can you delay the ritual?” Deaton asks. “We obviously need to talk.”

“We have time,” Coop says. “As long as we perform it before the moon starts to wax again. But that isn’t the time crunch we are worried about.”

“You’re worried about your hunters,” her dad says.

Coop nods. “The longer we take, the more likely that they’ll find us. They want Blaine; we’re hoping undergoing the ritual will make them lose interest in him.”

“We have a lot to talk about but if you convince me and Deaton that what you’re doing is above-board, then we’ll consider letting you finish the ritual tonight,” Scott says firmly. “If either of us isn’t sure, then you will have to wait. If it takes longer for us to be okay with this and your window passes, you’ll be under my pack’s protection until we resolve this and either give you the permission to use the Nemeton or make you leave. Provided you don’t harm or kill anyone while you are here.”

Allison can see the thoughts flying across Coop’s face. He’s facing Scott, a kid practically the same age as his brother, dictating terms and the two adults, Deaton and her father, quietly letting him state it. To his credit though, he doesn’t seem all that surprised or discomfited. Either he’s sensitive enough to feel Scott’s alpha status or he isn’t a close-minded idiot.

“Make no mistake,” Scott continues. “Beacon Hills _does_ have a pack and the Nemeton is under my protection.”

There’s a moment of silence then Coop breaks out a smile full of relief. “In that case, Alpha,” he says, “on behalf of my companions we offer our apologies for our trespass, we meant no disrespect but acted out of ignorance, and we acknowledge your authority over this territory and over the Nemeton.”

“Good, then I have your word that you, your brother and his...companion won’t harm or kill anyone during your stay here?”

“Yes, you have my word.”

“Then welcome to Beacon Hills.”

“Thank you,” Coop says gratefully. When she sees that relaxed smile Allison suddenly remembers where she’s seen him before. Thankfully for her pride, Danny beats her to the punch.

“That’s it!” Danny shouts excitedly. “I knew I know you! You’re the guy on the Free Credit Rating Today commercial!”


	8. Chapter 7

Blaine is feeling exhausted but he doesn’t want the Beacon Hills’ pack to know this. Using his own blood in two ward lines, still feeling the effects of whatever it is their druid did to try and break the ward—which he failed to, Blaine couldn’t help but be feel a little smug about that—then the power expended shifting into the Beast and it breaking free of his control when he thought Sam died, _then_ taking control again and then healing Sam on top of _that_...Blaine is all but out on his feet. He can also feel the craving start again as well, no surprise considering just how much power he expended tonight.

But Blaine has grown used to controlling himself, and this self-control was hard-won. Blaine never had to really fight for anything. He has... _had_...rich parents who didn’t mind spoiling their son so Blaine never lacked for anything. Naturally gifted in the things he likes, Blaine never had to fight for a lead position whether it was in glee club, the fencing or polo teams, or even in class standings. He was also lucky that the guys he was attracted to were similarly attracted to him or didn’t mind, or were even flattered by his attention—he actually had more to worry from unwanted advances than the opposite. On top of that, not only did things come easily to him, some of them were even given to him on a silver platter, whether he wanted them or not.

Blaine grew up learning to accept things graciously, not fighting tooth and nail to get them. Learning not to give in, not to indulge, this was new but it was something he works very hard to maintain. Fortunately knowing he can kill people he loves with just a moment’s loss of control is a wonderful motivator to maintain his self-discipline.

Blaine lived a charmed life for the first eighteen years of his life...after learning the price that would be exacted for that life, Blaine wished he had never been born.

He looks around the rough circle they formed. When it looked like the talk was going to be a long one, Blaine leaned back against Sam for support, gratefully feeling his warm, _living_ , bare chest. Sam is still wary, even now ready to leap to his defence. Sam put his jacket back on but gave up on his shirt—besides being blood-stained, Blaine had ripped it to shreds to get to his wound. Cooper is standing on Blaine’s other side but Blaine knows that he’s just as tired.

Proper introductions were made and after a brief discussion, the Beacon Hills Pack was reduced to their alpha Scott, Chris Argent, their Emissary Alan Deaton, and Danny Mahealani, his acolyte. The beta, Isaac Lahey, escorted Allison Argent to the hospital. Fortunately Sam didn’t break her ribs but it was a near thing. They argued for a bit whether it was wise to leave until Chris suggested they hand the journal over to Scott as surety, arguing that they cannot complete the ritual without it. They didn’t tell them that Cooper had a copy of the ritual on his phone but let them believe that for now, so the two reluctantly left.

Cooper is supposed to be the one talking but Blaine can see him struggling to start, too tired to know where to begin. He knows that Sam wouldn’t tell them anything if he can help it so Blaine takes a deep breath and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Coop looks at him and Blaine smiles at him and he sees Cooper understand. He nods and steps back and Blaine steps forward.

He suddenly understands why Cooper was rendered speechless. Where does he begin? He looks at Deaton and decides to see how much they know and go from there.

“I’m an aswang,” he says without ceremony and sees Deaton’s eyes widen, but the others don’t seem to recognize it. He directs his next question to Deaton directly. “What do you know about it?”

Scott and the others look to Deaton, curiosity plain on their faces. Deaton shrugs as he answers.

“Obviously not enough,” he says. “The little I know is already proven false based on what I’ve seen here.” He looks at his pack and tells them what he knows. “Aswangs are shapeshifters but not limited to one form like werewolves. They feed on unborn children with their long tongues, killing the pregnant mothers as well.”

Chris Argent frowns, “I don’t remember anything like that in the Bestiary.”

“I’d be surprised if you did,” Deaton answers him. “Your family hunted primarily in Europe and then the Americas. Aswangs are from Asia, the Philippines to be exact. They don’t venture far from their home islands.” He then looks at Blaine. “At least, they didn’t use to.”

Blaine smiles without humour. “You’d be surprised.” Blaine seems to gather his thoughts before he starts speaking. “Take the journal with you, my people’s history is long and convoluted so I doubt you’re going to let us finish the ritual tonight. I’ll tell you the CliffsNotes version and the reason why we’re here and then you can read the rest in the journal.”

Blaine can feel Sam’s protest but he sends reassurance to him, and he notices that attracts Deaton’s attention and he sees the druid’s eyes narrow. One thing at a time, he’ll deal with that later.

“Coop,” he turns to his brother, “can you pack up our stuff? No sense in leaving them out. Salvage what you can but I think we still have enough for another go, right? So just leave the rest and just get the important bits.”

It’s a testament to Cooper’s exhaustion that he just nods and walks to the Nemeton. Deaton nods to Danny who quickly joins Cooper to help, and probably keep an eye on him. Blaine doesn’t care at this point.

He turns back to the pack. “Okay the CliffsNotes version: aswangs are a people, not creatures. Shit, wait I have to go farther back,” Blaine mumbles. “Okay, back in the Dark Ages the Catholic Church was exterminating witches and other occultists. There was a coven of witches in Spain who practiced blood magic and they were powerful enough to draw the eye of the Church. I wouldn’t say they were the cause of the Inquisition but they definitely made the Inquisition the terror they became as they tried to find and exterminate this coven.

“They could withstand the Church for the most part because they had the backing of the Spanish throne, but the Church successfully placed one of their own candidates on the throne and the witches lost their protection. They fled to the colonies, as far from Rome as they could get and so they ended up in the Philippines.

“And there they ran into another kind of trouble, you see with typical European arrogance they simply assumed that the colonies were just lands waiting to be exploited, ignoring that there were nations and cultures there dating back at least as long as their own. The islands have their own kind of magic and practitioners called the babaylans. The babaylan is kinda like a shaman and their magic is nature-based, much like the druids.

“The coven came to the Philippines thinking to carve out a kingdom for themselves but found themselves embroiled in a war with magic-users just as strong as they were. They would have been wiped out except they were saved from an unexpected quarter...the Catholic Church.”

“Wait, what?” Scott interrupted. “I thought the witches and the Church were enemies?”

“They were...still are,” Blaine confirmed, “but remember what I said about European arrogance? The Church painted the babaylans with the same brush as they did the witches. The coven miscalculated twice, they did not account for the babaylans and they did not realize how powerful the Church was in the Philippines. Fortunately for them the local magic-users hated the Church more than they did the witches—they took over their villages and tried to stamp out their beliefs—and it was this three-front magical war that allowed the coven to survive.

“This went on for years and it was the Church that was getting the upper hand. You have to imagine the death and destruction that must happened for the babaylans to find common cause with the coven, because that is what they did. The coven and several of the babaylans created an unholy alliance. They combined their magic and created a terrible weapon, a creature that had the babaylans’ magic to change its shape and the witches’ ability to use blood magic. They created the first aswang.”

“I thought you said the aswangs are a people, not a creature,” Chris interjects.

“The first one, yes, but the witches double-crossed the babaylans—although I think they meant to double-cross each other and the witches just struck first—and bound the creature to them. They used it in one of their sabbats. They wanted to steal the babaylans’ nature magic, their own magic making them anathema to it. And they did, after a fashion. All the witches that night became pregnant.”

“Oh dear God,” Chris mutters.

“He had nothing to do with it,” Blaine says with a humourless smile. “All the aswangs that followed are descended from that first generation. There were thirteen clans, one descended from a witch at that sabbat, and most of them are active even to this day.”

“So the aswangs defeated the Church?” Scott asks.

“No, the babaylans cursed them...us,” Blaine replies. “Simple salt can prove a barrier to an aswang. Sili, a kind of pepper, is like acid to us and ginger can keep us away. Aswangs are not natural, so the most natural things in the world have a lot of power over us.”

“So the coven was defeated?”

“What makes you think the war has ended?” Blaine says with a wry, tired smile. “It’s still going on. The Church is a shadow of its former self but still has a formidable presence there, probably stronger there than in Europe. The babaylans are still around but their knowledge has been contaminated with European witchcraft and Catholic rituals. They are the most numerous but various sects and schisms make them fight among themselves too much for them to win the war...not that there is a “babaylan side” anymore. Some of them are no different from the witches they used to fight. And conversely some of the witches have become no different than the babaylans they fought. The ones who are most like the coven who originally came to the islands are the current aswangs. There are only seven clans now.”

“So is it the Church who is hunting you?” Chris asks.

“No,” Blaine answers grimly, “that would be my mother’s clan.”

“Wait, your _mother’s_ clan?” Scott asks. “So your mother is an aswang? But isn’t Cooper your brother? Doesn’t that make him one, too?” He points at Cooper who has since rejoined them, the bag with their stuff at his feet.

“Blaine is my half-brother,” Cooper answers. “I’m completely human.”

“So are they after you because you’re like half-aswang?” Scott asks struggling to find a reason. “Is that like a taboo?”

“There are no hybrids,” Blaine says. “You are either an aswang or you aren’t. You can’t make one as well, all aswangs are born. If two aswangs mate, the child of course will be one but with the seven clans fighting among themselves, it’s actually pretty hard to find an aswang to mate with who isn’t related to you in some way. And inbreeding has its own host of troubles...no genetic defects but the child of parents who are too closely related will be a monster, in every sense of the word, too close to the original creature.”

“Whatever happened to that?” Chris suddenly brings up. “You never said.”

“That’s ‘cause no one knows,” Blaine shrugs. “At least I don’t. I learned most of this last year. I had no idea what I was until after I turned seventeen.”

“Aswangs who mate with humans don’t always produce aswang babies,” Cooper says. “And they won’t know for sure until the kid is in his teens.”

“My mother fell in love with my father and she hated what she was,” Blaine continued. “She married him because she thought that since he already had Cooper he wouldn’t mind not having a child with her. But he convinced her and she couldn’t say no to him, and she comforted herself with the thought that she herself was the only aswang among her siblings. When I didn’t show any signs when I hit puberty she was relieved. Seventeen is rather old for an aswang to come to its birthright.”

“You were always a late-bloomer, B,” Cooper says to Blaine affectionately. Blaine gives him a tired grin in return.

“But you did,” Chris says. “So your mom doesn’t feed on humans?”

“Aswangs don’t _need_ to feed on humans,” Blaine says forcefully. “I won’t lie, there are cravings but we aren’t vampires. There isn’t a need to feed on humans.”

“But aswangs do anyway,” Deaton says, looking up from the journal he’s been reading while listening to Blaine speak.

“Yes,” Blaine answers uncomfortably. “Blood magic is innate to us and that’s where the craving comes from and nothing tastes sweeter or feels more fulfilling than satisfying that craving.”

Deaton looks up sharply. “Which you’ve done.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes,” Blaine says looking him in the eye. “Animals. I don’t feed on humans.”

“So how did you end up being chased by your mother’s clan?” Scott brings up wanting to get back on track.

“When it was clear I am what I am,” Blaine sighs but continues, “my mother knew that her clan would come for me. They have ways to know when an aswang manifests, so she tried to teach me as much as she could but like an idiot I ignored her, thinking there was no such thing until the clan showed up.”

Blaine stops, tears suddenly filling his eyes. The grief rises and he’s too exhausted to fight it back. He feels Sam put his arms around him, giving him support and Blaine clings to it like a lifeline, the sorrow and the guilt is there bashing against his heart and only Sam is keeping him up.

He feels Cooper put a hand on his shoulder and picks up the story but in a low voice.

“They came and killed some of Blaine’s friends to get to him, including our dad,” Cooper swallows painfully remembering his own loss, “and his mom. Pamela. That’s her journal.”

“So why do they want Blaine so bad?” Scott asks.

“Honestly,” Blaine hears the frustration is Cooper’s voice, “we don’t really know.” Blaine pulls himself together. This was his story; he should tell it and spare Cooper.

“We know that the clans don’t have as many aswang members as they would like, the chances of one being born are pretty low but even if it’s lower than we think, we don’t understand why they are chasing me so badly.”

“We think part of it is that,” Cooper says indicating the journal. “We think they want that as much as or even more than Blaine. We suspect that they initially wanted Blaine when Pamela was alive so they can use him to trade for it.”

“What’s so important about it?”

“Look at the date of the first entry,” Cooper says.

“Twenty-second of June, seventeen seventy-six,” Deaton reads out. “Your mother is over two hundred years old?”

“No,” Blaine says, finally getting command of his emotions. “She inherited it from her grandmother. Aswangs are long-lived but not that long-lived. At least not without doing something unspeakable.”

“Like what?” Danny asks before he can stop himself.

“Like eating the still-beating heart of an infant,” Blaine answers coldly. “Unborn is better, the aswang steals the potential life of the child and adds it to his own.”

Danny gulps, sorry he asked.

“The journal is filled not only with history but with rituals and spells and all sorts of information; not only about the aswang but of the rituals and magic of the original coven, the Church and the babaylans,” Cooper breaks in, changing the subject, “including information on the creatures and enchantments in the Philippines.

“According to entries in the journal,” Cooper continues, “there are rituals and spells there that cannot be found anywhere else.”

“Okay that’s it for Aswangs for Dummies,” Scott says. “I know you’re tired and we appreciate you being open but you’re right, we can’t let you do the ritual yet, we don’t know enough.”

Blaine feels Sam tense but he nods tiredly, understanding Scott’s position.

“You’re under our protection, however, just as we agreed,” Scott continues, “but to do that I’m going to have to ask you to put up with our questions for just a bit longer. If we’re going to protect you from your clan, we gotta know what an aswang can and can’t do.”

“Especially how to disable that thing you turned into,” Chris adds.

“And what you hope to accomplish with this ritual and why you think it will stop the clan from taking you,” Deaton pipes in.

“And what Sam is,” Chris remarks, “because no way is he completely human.”

Blaine can feel Sam bristle and shift from wariness back to outright hostility. He sends reassurance back down their link and sighs tiredly but can see the reason behind the requests.

“It’s all right, Sam,” Blaine says, his exhaustion making him careless and clueing the others that Sam is _not_ happy about things. “They need to know.”

“Not everything,” Sam growls out.

“Everything,” Blaine argues back but without any heat. “We need their help and I’m so tired. Aren’t you tired Sam? They aren’t saying no and honestly what will it cost us?”

“You,” Sam says quietly.

“Let them try,” Blaine says with a tired smile but it seems to work and Sam relaxes.

“Fine,” Sam says bitingly, “ask your questions but make it fast. Blaine is tired and the more tired he is, the less control he has and I don’t care if you’re Fenris reincarnated,” Sam says this to Scott, “but if Blaine loses control the only thing left standing here would be me and, maybe, Cooper,” Sam turns to Cooper and says sheepishly, “Sorry Coop but you know that’s true.” Cooper just shrugs.

Blaine sighs as he sees the pack tense up at Sam’s implied threat. “Sam...” he says tiredly.

“What? I thought we’re supposed to be open and tell them everything?” Sam says with the faux-innocent voice that didn’t fool Blaine even before he had enhanced senses. “Tell me what I said wasn’t true.”

“I think,” Cooper breaks in before Blaine and Sam start arguing. Because even with all the supernatural changes those two went through, they are still, at heart, two teen-aged boys. “I think you should ask your questions now.”


	9. Chapter 9

They ended up postponing the questioning after all. First they decided to retire someplace more comfortable. Deaton and Danny elected to stay behind to clean up the Nemeton and got Scott to promise to wait until they caught up before asking anything.

As they were walking back to the Hale house, Scott and Chris were arguing where they were going to go. The Hale house was unliveable—unless you were Derek—and it felt like trespassing to use Derek’s loft, and they didn’t want to include Peter if they had to, who might be hanging out there. They haven’t seen him since Derek and Cora left but no sense in making it easy for him to stick his nose in. Deaton’s clinic was uncomfortable and Chris was hesitant to bring them to his place. Not for anything but Sam was obviously not as at-ease (or resigned if he was to be honest) with them as the other two were and Chris was reluctant to put him near so many weapons. Sam beat Allison and Allison is arguably their best hand-to-hand combatant, able to stand toe-to-toe with most of the wolves despite their supernaturally enhanced physical abilities. Even with their physical advantages she wins most of their sparring matches.

By the time they reached the Hale house they finally decided to go to the McCall residence. They all piled into Chris’ SUV—Isaac had carried Allison to the hospital—and Scott texted Danny where they were heading. He then called Isaac to update him, his mom, Allison (who was going to be okay, she just needed to wrap her chest), and Lydia. He also sent a text to the Sheriff letting him know that things have settled down.

They stopped to pick up the Andersons’ SUV and Cooper drove it, following them back to Scott’s house. They settled in the living room waiting for Deaton and Danny. Isaac showed up first, Allison sent him ahead “just in case” and promised to follow with the other two girls; Melissa still needing to finish her shift.

By the time Deaton and Danny showed up, both Cooper and Blaine were fast asleep. Cooper was on the recliner and Blaine was curled up on Sam’s side. Sam was wide awake though, one arm protectively holding Blaine close and not-quite glaring at the others.

They decided that everyone needed to sleep and they could postpone the meeting for a few more hours.

Scott walks everyone to their cars, Danny texts Lydia that the girls should just go home and to come back in the morning. Isaac stays inside to keep an eye on Sam.

“Well? What do you think?” Scott starts, looking back at the house over his shoulder.

“I think there’s a lot more going on than even they know,” Deaton says.

“What do you mean?” Chris asks.

“The journal for one,” Deaton says. “For something that’s been around for two hundred years, the notebook itself is relatively new, it isn’t as thick as it’s supposed to be and it’s written in English—modern-day English—by the same person.”

“You think they lied?”

“Not necessarily,” Deaton says. “If they are right and Blaine’s mother inherited this, Pamela could have written a copy and only copied relevant parts down, discarding the rest. There are huge jumps in dates and the fact that there doesn’t seem to be any missing pages supports this theory.”

“But that means the stuff in the journal can be suspect,” Chris points out.

“True,” Deaton agrees, “but if you think about it, all information in journals and grimoires are similarly suspect for the same reason.”

“What else?” Scott asks.

“I’m concerned about the ritual they want to perform,” Deaton brings up.

“Why?”

“Well it’s supposed to “cure” Blaine, right?” Deaton asks and the other two nod. “Well, Blaine has pointed out that the aswangs are a race. Aswangs are born, not made. There are rituals that could have changed you back, Scott, since you are a made wolf, but there isn’t a ritual in the world that can make someone like Derek not a werewolf. I can’t make Chris not human, for example, it is what he is.”

“So the ritual won’t work?”

“Or it isn’t going to cure him the way they think it will.”

“Or cure him in the way _we_ think _they_ think it will,” Chris says, adding, “We’re assuming that the cure they mean is to turn him human, they haven’t exactly said what the result of the ritual will be.”

“Only that it will help Blaine and hope it will make the hunters leave them alone,” Scott says. “I missed that.”

Chris shuffles his feet. “I’m sorry Scott,” he says apologetically to Scott’s surprise.

“For what?”

“I made a bad call,” Chris continues. “We engaged them and I almost got Allison killed. Cooper’s right, you know, we did come out guns blazing...as much as I want to break Sam for nearly killing my daughter, I can’t help but think if our roles were reversed I would have done the same thing. I can imagine Allison is probably beating herself about it as well.”

“No need to apologize,” Scott quickly points out. “You made a call with the information you had. Rituals involving the Nemeton are hardly ever good ones and if I were in your shoes, I probably would have made the same call.” Scott grinned, “A leader makes decisions with the information he has at that moment, and you judge the quality of that decision without bias regardless of any additional intelligence you acquire later.”

Chris smiles back at Scott. “Throwing my own lessons back at me?”

“You’re old,” Scott says, his grin growing wider, “you tend to forget stuff.”

“Watch it,” Chris growls menacingly but Scott knows with the certainty of wolf-enhanced hearing that he doesn’t mean it.

Deaton smiles at the banter, but can’t stop the yawn that breaks out.

“Let’s break up this pow-wow and reconvene tomorrow,” Scott says. “You old-timers need your rest.”

“I, for one, will not argue with you,” Deaton says before Chris can say anything. “But I’ll probably pull an all-nighter. I want to read as much of this,” he holds up the journal, “as I can.”

“Tomorrow morning at eight?” Chris asks.

“Sounds good,” Scott agrees. “I’ll ask mom to stay with the Sheriff tonight.”

When he sees Chris’ raised eyebrow, Scott clarifies his point. “It’s not that I don’t trust them but I don’t want to reveal too much like the Sheriff being one of us and that we have someone in the hospital.” Scott shrugs. “I just like to be cautious.”

“And it means we can have a morning meeting without having to worry about waking your mom after she pulled in a late shift,” Chris points out.

“That too,” Scott says grinning unrepentantly.

“I’m glad now that we had the twins go on that quest for atonement,” Deaton says thoughtfully. When he sees the others’ expressions he answers their unspoken question. “Blood magic is particularly good at manipulating relationships. If the twins were still here with issues unresolved between all of you, any half-trained blood witch could use that against you. Their quest would close that option for them to exploit. A true bond between alpha and his pack is one of the strongest bonds.”

“It also would help to have your sister and another acolyte since we’ll be dealing with all this hocus-pocus,” Chris adds.

“Marin _is_ also a lot more knowledgeable about magic than I am,” Deaton agrees.

“Enough for now,” Scott says. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. Thanks guys.”

As they get into their cars and leave, Scott waves goodbye. He sends a quick message to his mom as he walks back to the house, asking her to stay at the Stilinskis tonight. It isn’t the first time he’s asked this, to the point that his mom actually has a key to their house. He refuses to think what other reason she may have had for that key (which she already possessed even before Scott asked her to stay there). He and Stiles have spent countless hours not thinking about what it meant.

As Scott walks in his house he hears voices. In the living room, everyone is pretty much where he left them except someone has thrown a blanket over both Cooper and Blaine but Blaine is still burrowed into Sam’s side.

It also sounds like Sam and Isaac are talking about...superheroes?

“I used to think the same way but seriously, dude, except for a handful of guys the power levels of the Avengers just don’t compare to the Justice League,” Sam was saying.

“Even if that were true, and it isn’t, power isn’t everything!” Isaac exclaims. “Yeah the Justice League is powerful but because of that they aren’t used to being the underdog...they don’t know what it’s like to fight against impossible odds all the time and _win_!”

“Batman,” Sam says smugly.

“Dude,” Isaac says rolling his eyes, “you can’t use Batman to end each argument in your favour!”

“When it applies I can.”

“Which, so far, is every argument we’ve had!”

“I can’t help it if I’m right,” Sam points out, “besides, dude, by saying that you just agreed with me.”

“Isaac,” Scott butts in, “I’m not even sure what you’re arguing about but I’m with Sam on this one. Batman kinda wins pretty much every argument.”

“I know,” Isaac says deflating. “I agree with you, too. Dammit.”

Isaac is sitting on the other easy chair and Scott doesn’t want to bring in a chair from the dining room and he definitely doesn’t want to join Sam and Blaine on the couch, not wanting to put Sam on the defensive. So he sits on the arm of Isaac’s chair.

“Sam,” Scott knows that if he can get Sam to relax, all of this will go much easier. “I just want you to know there are no hard feelings and I hope that you don’t still feel any towards Chris for, you know...”

“Shooting me in the back?” Sam says with a smirk. He quickly waves his hand. “No worries there Scott. It was a fight, and in fights sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. He won, simple as that.” Sam shrugs. “I’m pissed that I forgot about him and turned my back on him but I’m pissed at myself, not at Chris.”

“That’s good to know,” Scott says. “Um, will Blaine be pissed at Chris for shooting you?”

Now Sam smiles evilly at Scott. “Blaine freaked you out?” Before Scott can refute the question, Sam just shrugs again. “Nah, Blaine isn’t like that. Everyone’s healed up and I’m okay, he’ll let it go, Cooper too. They both can think of the long-term and they know sometimes you have to give things up to get better things.” He looks down at Blaine and begins to gently card through Blaine’s curls. “Me, I’m simple. I watch over Blaine and that extends to Cooper because he’s helping Blaine but Blaine is my priority. If Chris had hurt Blaine, though...well let’s just say that we’ll be having a whole other conversation.”

Scott begins to feel uneasy. He meant to calm Sam and try to smooth things over but he can sense that he just somehow ruffled Sam’s feathers. Sam looks pretty harmless right now, smiling softly at Blaine and stroking his hair but Scott could feel the leashed violence in him, thrumming at the thought that Blaine could be hurt.

Sam suddenly meets his eyes and Scott sees no humanity in them.

“I’m insane Scott,” Sam says. “Functional, true, but in many ways, I’m more of a monster than Blaine, even at his worst. Even as the Beast, someone he cares for, like Cooper, can still reach him and argue with him because there’s still something human inside him. Not me. There isn’t anything like that inside me. Chris is right; I’m not entirely human anymore.”

And with that he closes his eyes and Scott is convinced that Sam is asleep. Just like that, like someone threw a switch.

He exchanges looks with Isaac and he can see that Isaac is as freaked out as he is. They both slowly get up and walk upstairs to their room.

“Was he serious?” Isaac whispers to him.

“Dead serious,” Scott whispers back.

“Um, do you mind if I bunk in your room tonight?” Isaac asks. “You know, to watch over you. You’re my alpha after all and we have possible hostiles downstairs.”

Scott is about to tease Isaac but instead he just nods. With barely hidden relief Isaac goes into his room presumably to change and grab his blanket—Isaac is a blanket hog and Scott had told him that if he sleeps with him again he needs to bring his own blanket. Scott can admit that he feels safer knowing Isaac is there with him.

Sam Evans freaks the shit out of him.


	10. Chapter 9

“So what do you want to know first?”

The pack had gathered once again in the McCall living room. Blaine, who asked the question, is sitting on one of the dining room chairs. Sam is standing behind him almost leisurely but everyone could feel him coiled tighter than a snake about to strike. Blaine is holding one of Sam’s hands, somehow keeping him in control. Cooper is also sitting in another chair beside Blaine, not bothering to hide his anxiety.

Scott’s pack, sans the Sheriff and Melissa, were scattered around the room. There was a tense moment when Allison came in and had eye contact with Sam but they both just nodded and the tension dissipated. Lydia took one look at Blaine and said something about something being totally unfair and then quietly sat on the easy chair like a queen gracing her subjects with her presence. Deaton sat on the couch closest to Blaine with Danny beside him. Scott sat on the sofa arm rest while Allison, Chris, and Isaac stood around the room, leaning on walls, ready to burst into action if necessary. Scott hopes it won’t be.

“Aswang FAQs,” Scott says firmly. “If we’re going to protect you we need to know what to watch out for and what you guys can do.”

Blaine nods.

“Basically aswangs are shapeshifters, we can take on the form of any animal that we’ve eaten the heart of. There is usually a tell, though, depending on the clan. My clan, for example, the animal forms are always black and is a specific form to the aswang, no matter what the original color or species of the animal whose heart we ate. Also our eyes flash red in moonlight in our assumed forms. My clan can also only take the form of mammals and birds. Other clans can transform to reptiles, fish, even invertebrates. Size has no bearing or mass. One clan has the power to transform into a swarm of insects.”

“How do you eat the heart of an insect?” Danny asks. “Do insects even have hearts?”

“Clan secrets,” Blaine says shrugging, “I don’t know how they do it only that they can. The tells of the other clans are in the journal.”

“Also, don’t say the names of the clans aloud,” Cooper adds. “They have ways of following it back to the speaker. There are only three clan names you can speak without fear because those clans no longer exist.”

“So you can’t transform into another person?” Isaac asks.

“I can’t,” Blaine says, but he swallows hard and Scott sees Sam squeeze his hand. He thinks Sam is going to interrupt but he says nothing and Blaine continues. “There’s a ritual that allows an aswang, any aswang, to eat the heart of a person or animal and turn into it exactly. The tells are suppressed. It’s almost impossible to tell if it’s the person or the aswang, worse still the aswang steals their memories and, if the aswang is good at this, even their skills.”

“Some of Blaine and Sam’s friends were killed in this manner,” Cooper says quietly. “They led Blaine to a trap and it was only by sacrificing herself was Pamela able to save him. We ran away that day.”

“Show them,” Sam says expressionlessly. “They need to know their faces in case they show up.”

Blaine, with shaking hands takes his phone out and passes it to Cooper who fiddles with it and then passes it to Deaton. Deaton passes it to Scott without looking at it. Lydia gets up and takes it gently from Scott, and uncharacteristically speaks softly, “Let me, I’ll make copies and send it to the others.” Scott just nods.

“We don’t know if they got them all, we were able to send out a warning but we left that day, we don’t know who has else been taken and who got away. We know for sure that Kurt Hummel, Tina Cohen-Chang and Finn Hudson were killed and their skins stolen,” Sam is talking but without emotion. “They got to Finn first and used him to get close to Kurt and Tina. Kurt was Blaine’s ex and Tina was one of his best friends. They were two of the people he trusted most in the world and they used that to get to him.”

“The others?”

“My friends,” Blaine speaks up again. “Our friends,” he adds squeezing Sam’s hands. “We were very close. High school can be tough and we grew particularly close because of it. If they want to get to me, these people are the key. Not only are they people I care about, they also know me and Sam pretty well. They can use their memories against us.

Blaine exhales and then straightens up in his chair. “I can tell if there are other aswangs about. Even when they steal someone’s skin like this, even with the tells suppressed I can still detect them so if you see any one of them around, let me know I will be able to tell you if they are real or not.

“We’re stronger than most,” Blaine continues firmly changing the subject. “Faster, too. We have enhanced senses with smell being the strongest. I don’t know how I rate up with werewolves though.

“I can also use magic,” Blaine adds, “but only if I use blood, whether my own or others’. Obviously if I use others I risk corrupting myself. I know some spells and rituals, mostly healing and warding.”

“Like what you did to Sam?” Danny asks, a little eagerly. “With the shell?”

“Yeah,” Blaine says. “But that ritual just doesn’t work on anyone, there are conditions that need to be met.”

“And the point is moot anyway,” Cooper interrupts, “as that was the last of the conch shells.”

“That ritual is considered light because I gave the blood back to Sam instead of keeping it for myself,” Blaine says. “I know a couple of more but Cooper is the one who has read up on all this. To minimize corruption, I let him learn and cast the spell or ritual and I just power it.”

“Coven-based magic,” Deaton breaks in. “It allows more than one person to share the casting of a spell.” Blaine nods. “I’m guessing that the other aswangs aren’t as careful as you?”

“No, so I can’t tell you what kind of magic is available to them,” Blaine says shaking his head. “Cooper—”

“Also can’t tell you much,” Cooper interrupts. “I know more than Blaine but because of the ritual we need to cast on him, I also need to stay relatively pure. What spells and rituals I do know are the same: warding, healing, divining...nothing black.”

“About this ritual—” Deaton begins but Scott interrupts him with an apologetic glance.

“Sorry, doc, one last question,” Scott says and Deaton nods in acceptance. Turning back to Blaine he asks, “how do we stop them? You mentioned salt, ginger and chilli last night?”

“Sili, not chilli, although sili is a kind of pepper,” Blaine muses but pulls himself together. “The first aswang is an abomination, an affront to nature. The weird thing is by breeding with it, the witches sorta kinda made it legit by creating a race. Still not natural by any means but bonding it to the human form—since our ancestral mothers were human, we are all human—bound it in some way to the natural world, well supernatural world.

“We are still freaks of nature,” Blaine says wryly, “but the point is we are now freaks _of_ nature...get it?

“But what we are makes us vulnerable to things of the natural world. Salt, ginger and chilli peppers have powerful properties and they affect us to a degree. But there’s a catch, the more unnatural the aswang is the more susceptible he is to these things. This pretty much means how much they use blood magic and how often they use the rituals makes them more susceptible to these three things. Because I barely use the rituals, salt doesn’t affect me, I can ignore ginger, and sili just gives me gas.

“But if I ever go over that line, even once, I won’t be able to cross a line of salt, ginger will force me away and sili will be like acid to me. Table salt is useless except for the most depraved aswang, but enough of it will give an aswang pause. The best kind is sea salt, the more unrefined the better. Salt can even burn the skin of an aswang. Ginger is the least useful because at most it will keep an aswang at bay but an aswang doesn’t have to touch you to kill you. However any ginger will do, just slice it open and the smell will keep them off sometimes even the juice will burn it. Ginger is better used as counter to aswang magic, like moly was for Circe. And as for chilli peppers, it depends on the variety. It’s not always the hottest pepper that works—you won’t be saved by jalapeños. The pepper has to have grown in the Philippines. Even chilli peppers that aren’t indigenous to the Philippines, as long as the one you use was grown on Philippine soil, it’s effective against aswangs.”

“So if we see your friends walking around Beacon Hills...?” Isaac begins.

“Spill some salt in front of them, if they can walk over it, then that person is legit,” Blaine says without pausing. “If they jump back or if the salt burns them, then kill them. Skin stealing is one of the darkest rituals, table salt will be effective against them and just the smell of ginger will give them hives if they are wearing their stolen skins. In their natural form, the effects won’t be as extreme but it will hurt them pretty badly.”

“So salt water to an aswang is like holy water to a vampire?” Allison asks.

“Pretty much,” Blaine says, “but only when they are wearing their stolen skins. If they aren’t, or if they are in animal form that is not a stolen skin, then salt works like it would on any other aswang.”

“Isn’t the Philippines an archipelago?” Chris asks. “You know, _surrounded_ by salt water?”

“Why do you think you’ve never heard of aswangs before now?” Blaine points out. “I told you the babaylans cursed the witches and their offspring and the babaylans were masters of nature magic, with a particular affinity for water especially the sea. But don’t celebrate, there’s apparently a height limit to the efficacy of salt. An aswang, if he can turn into a bird, can fly over salt lines if he can get high enough. The oceans were still too big so it wasn’t until commercial air travel became available that aswangs were able to cross the oceans. It isn’t comfortable, but it can be done.”

“Well at least these are things that aren’t hard to acquire,” Danny says.

“What about the Beast?” Chris asks. “When you transformed into that, we couldn’t move, it was like...”

“A nightmare?” Blaine asks with an apologetic expression on his face. “The Beast is our link to our progenitor. He was a thing out of nightmares. We can transform into that—”

“Well that’s great because when you did we were about as effective as pair of kindergartners with nerf guns!”

“Fresh ginger on you will minimize the effect of the aura,” Cooper cuts in.

“Also most aswangs can’t transform into that,” Blaine adds in. “I can because I haven’t eaten the heart of a human. By eating a human heart, an aswang satisfies his craving but it also ties it closer to its human form, pulling it away from the Beast.”

“At least that’s what it says in Pamela’s journal,” Cooper says. “It’s ironic but there it is. The journal also suspects, and both Pamela and I agree, that the babaylans’ curse had a hand in that as well.”

“There is a ritual that lets an aswang who has eaten human hearts reclaim this form but either it wasn’t in the journal when Pamela inherited it or Pamela herself did not add it when she rewrote the journal.”

Scott, Chris and Deaton share a look when Cooper confirms Deaton’s theory about the journal.

“But an aswang does have a Beast form. This is basically an amalgamation of all the things he can transform into. It’s almost always humanoid and he can pick and choose what he wants to add: claws, wings, venom, spikes. But this form doesn’t have an aura and if the aswang isn’t good at this sort of thing it can actually be a hindrance.”

“How?”

“Giving himself armor like a turtle and the strength of an ox will make him slow and if he doesn’t construct the armor correctly he can seriously impair his movement and flexibility.”

“Spikes in the wrong places can actually poke him if he’s not careful,” Sam says suddenly, breaking into a smile. “It’s how we got away in Denver, idiot put spikes on his kneecap pointing upwards because it “looked cool”, I kicked him behind his knee and he impaled himself.”

Everyone couldn’t help but break out into grins. It’s not so much the thought of someone dying that’s funny but the tension had been steadily building as Blaine and Cooper was giving them the information on aswangs and they needed an excuse to release that tension.

“Unless there’s nothing else,” Deaton says. “What about the ritual?”

“Like a dog with a bone,” Isaac says under his breath. Fortunately it seems that only Scott heard him. If Blaine or Sam did—Scott wouldn’t put it past Sam having enhanced senses, too—they showed no sign.

“Pamela said there’s a ritual that can cleanse Blaine from the curse of the aswang,” Cooper says. “She showed me the ritual and walked me through it. It needs a conduit to the earth...”

“The Nemeton,” Danny breathed out. Cooper nods and continues.

“And Blaine must be pure, meaning he must not have eaten a human heart or directly cause any suffering on man and beast and he will be cleansed of the curse.”

“What do you think that means?” Deaton asks with a sharp eye on Cooper.

“It won’t stop him from being an aswang if that’s what you think I mean,” Cooper says wryly, “but I expect it to strip him of the connection to the Beast and I think with it, the cravings.”

“As an aswang I am both more resistant to, and more vulnerable to blood magic,” Blaine says softly. “General spells that use blood as a reagent, I can resist far more easily and I can manipulate with a thought, but a blood spell specifically made for aswangs are impossible to resist. One of the things that tie me to the clans is our progenitor.”

“So if you cut the ties that bind you to him...”

“They won’t be able to find me,” Blaine says. “I might not even smell like an aswang anymore.”

“We’re thinking a lot of his powers will be diminished but then so will the downsides,” Cooper adds.

“It’ll be worth it,” Blaine says softly, “if they just leave us alone.”

“No thoughts of revenge?” Lydia asks. Scott looks at her wondering if she’s provoking Blaine.

“Thoughts? Yes,” Blaine says giving her a tight smile. “But it won’t be worth it in the end. If I wanted revenge, I’d be choosing to walk down a different path. If they decide to call it quits, that will be enough for me. I’ll mourn my friends but I want to keep the ones still alive breathing more than I want to avenge those that died.”

“There’s no guarantee that they’ll leave you alone though,” Chris said. “You can be powering yourself down for no reason except to make it easier for them to catch you.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Blaine says looking at Chris with steely eyes. “I don’t want to be a monster. If they kill me at the end, at least I’ll die human...or as close to it as I can get.”

“They won’t get a chance,” Sam says grimly.

At that a silence descends on the group.

“Is that it?” Cooper asks, breaking the quiet. “Are we good?”

Scott looks at Deaton, letting him make the decision.

“Yes,” Deaton says and Cooper doesn’t bother hiding his relief. “Yes, we’re good. I’d like it to give it one more night. I want to study the ritual more closely and make sure our assumptions are correct. I also want to give my sister a chance to catch up to us, she’s more versed about these sort of things than I am and her involvement will be invaluable but I think it’s best we do the ritual before the moon waxes whether or not she makes it. I know enough to know that even if the ritual isn’t what we think it is, it will not hurt Blaine or the Nemeton.”

“We have no problems with that,” Cooper says, the light coming back to his eyes, “we originally were going to ask the Hale Emissary to perform the ritual anyway so this is actually pretty much our Plan A.”

“Do you mind if I hold on to it a while longer?” Deaton asks.

“Keep it!” Cooper says, “It’s yours, our way of paying for your services.”

“Besides,” Chris says wryly, “I’m sure you already made copies.”

Cooper just grins and then winks at him. Chris just manages not to break out into a laugh. As it is, he can’t help but return the man’s grin.

“Blaine,” Sam’s voice cuts through the general hubbub that came up when the meeting ended. “You wanted me to remind you if you forget to tell them about the Ritual of Inang Bulan.”

The group descends into silence again as Blaine looks up at Sam. “Thanks for reminding me Sam.”

“What’s the Ritual of Inang Bulan?”

“Inang Bulan was the matriarch of the Dumancas clan. They were a powerful clan, steeped in lore and wielded the darkest, vilest magic,” Blaine starts to say and the others begin to settle down again. “The Dumancas were the first skin stealers and they were the most practiced at it. They are the ones that gave rise to the myth of the aswang who eats unborn children and every Dumancas aswang had long prehensile tongues even if they never performed the Ritual of the Unborn Life. They had clan members hundreds of years old and practiced magic that are lost today.

“Inang Bulan created a ritual, it was a variation of the skin stealing ritual. You see, if an aswang stole Isaac’s skin, he’d look and sound and smell like Isaac. He would have his memories and if he’s particularly good at the spell, he’ll pick up all of Isaac’s skills as well and at the level that Isaac had them. But he would not be able to get Isaac’s werewolf abilities. An aswang cannot steal the skin of a born werewolf at all. He can steal Deaton’s knowledge but not his ability to cast magic, he can fake it because aswangs do have magic but he cannot steal Deaton’s ability to work with nature.

“But Inang Bulan found a way. I don’t know the specifics, and I don’t want to know, only that the ritual takes time to cast and that it must be done during the new moon with no stars shining above.

“When the clans learned about this ritual they banded together for the first time since that sabbat with the Beast. They waged war on the Dumancas and the two other clans who joined them for the promise of power. In two years the three clans were wiped out to the last man, woman and child. No one with their blood—whether they were human or aswang—was allowed to live and when an aswang hunts the blood, you can bet there is no escape. Unfortunately for the clans, the war left none of them untouched. The population of aswangs was decimated. Three clans were completely extinguished. One clan was comprised of just one family so they swore fealty to another clan for fifty generations just so they would not suffer the same fate. One clan merged with another clan to protect both their interests, and two other clans did the same. Only four of the original thirteen clans still stand unchanged.

“Unfortunately that ritual survives,” Blaine says. “The clans set aside their greed and lust for power long enough for common sense to rule and they decided to destroy all of what the Dumancas hoarded and created, acknowledging that it was better to destroy it all rather than letting one of them gain that much power. They knew another war like that would prove fatal for all of them. So they did. Centuries of lore and spells and rituals and artefacts erased, for the good of all; except someone kept a copy of the ritual. This is known because the leaders of the ten surviving clans were found with their hearts missing.

“And they never did find the body of Inang Bulan.”


	11. Chapter 10

Scott called for a break and the group broke up. Cooper showed Deaton his bag and giving him samples of things they got raiding Pamela’s storeroom, stuff they can’t get anywhere else, including unrefined sea salt, ginger talismans and Philippine-grown chilli peppers.

Isaac took Sam downstairs to the basement, letting him use the McCalls’ washing machine to do their laundry. Lydia and Danny went to town to pick up lunch. It was still early but they decided that now was as good a time as any and the food can keep until they got hungry.

Chris and Allison took a walk around the block. Allison felt the need to apologize and Chris needed to let his daughter know not beat herself up about last night. They didn’t get the chance the night before so they were taking it now.

Blaine was in the backyard, enjoying the warm sunshine and for once not having to worry about being attacked. He knew he would have to feed soon but for now he could keep his craving under control and just enjoy a very rare peaceful moment.

“So you and Sam, huh?” A voice breaks through his quiet. Blaine turns to see Scott standing a few feet behind him. In the morning light his mocha-colored skin practically glows with health and his warm brown eyes matches the easy humour in his lazy smile. Blaine can admit that Scott McCall, with his askew jaw and compact but graceful frame, is gorgeous but he’s used to crushing on the unattainable so he pushes it aside with no difficulty.

“It’s complicated,” he answers with his own smile, letting Scott know that his questions or presence are not unwelcome.

“That’s what your brother said.”

“So you and Allison, huh?” Blaine says and he can’t help but smirk when he sees Scott’s startled reaction.

“How did you know?”

“Please,” Blaine snorts, “after having to work out the relationship quagmire that is New Directions, figuring out who used to date who and who is into whom is child’s play.”

“New Directions?” Scott asks as he sits on the grass beside Blaine. Apparently not caring about things like dirt or grass stains. But then again, Blaine is on the grass, too, and Blaine had stopped caring about dirt and grass stains a long, long time ago.

“My friends,” he manages to say normally. It helps that they’re talking about this in the sunlight. Sunlight always seems to make things better somehow. “We were in show choir and were at the bottom of the food chain in high school. We had to stick-up for each other because no one else would have. We got ridiculously close. One of the fall outs is that we tend to date within the group.”

“Wait all your friends, the ones in the pictures, were in show choir?”

“Yep.”

“And you were at the bottom of the food chain?” Scott asks incredulously.

“Yep.”

“Even the blondes?”

“Which one?”

“All of them!” Scott exclaims. “You guys are like ridiculously hot! Where did you go to school, Tyra Banks High? Were all your other classmates models or something?”

Blaine just burst out laughing.

“Okay, I may be oversimplifying,” he concedes. “When New Directions started, we _were_ made up of misfits and outcasts but yeah, when we started winning competitions we started getting some respect and a lot of the cool kids started to join. But we faced a lot of opposition, we had zero support from the school even though we were national champions, so we kinda developed an ‘us-against-them’ mindset that kinda stuck even when it wasn’t as bad later on.”

“National champions, huh?” Scott asks. “How does that work exactly? Do you have events on who can sing the highest note?”

“Okay now you’re just showing your jockiness and making fun of us music nerds,” Blaine sees Scott wince and he senses weakness. “You are, aren’t you? I bet you’re like the star athlete...too small for football...soccer? Baseball?”

Scott sighs. “Lacrosse,” and at Blaine’s raised eyebrow, he also concedes, “team captain.”

“Hah!”

“And I’m not too small for football!”

“Scott,” Blaine says condescendingly, “you’re barely taller than I am and while I’ll admit you got the brawn, there is no way in hell they’ll put you in a football jersey. But then again you are here in California and everyone knows how wimpy folks out here are...”

“Hey!” Scott yells out in indignation. “I’ll have you know that lacrosse is a rough, manly sport that is just as brutal as football.”

“Which I bet they only allowed you to play after you became a werewolf.”

“So not the point,” Scott mumbles.

“Wait, I’m right?” Blaine looks surprised.

“I was asthmatic, okay?” Scott says sullenly.

“Aw, don’t feel, bad,” Blaine grins, “I’m just joshin’ with ya.”

“Nope,” Scott says crossing his arms. “You hurt my feelings. To make up for it you have to tell me something embarrassing about yourself.”

“I was part of a superhero club in school,” Blaine says. He’s not really embarrassed about it but he figures that for a jock-type like Scott it would be. He actually likes the guy, though, not at all like the Neanderthals back in Lima. “We wore costumes and everything.”

“You wore superhero costumes in school?” Scott says flatly.

“Yup.”

“This was a club?”

“Yah.”

“The school actually allowed this?”

“Yah,” Blaine said. “Before it used to be a group of cosplayers who got together to exchange costume tips and planned trips to different conventions but when I joined up, we got the principal to allow us to wear our costumes during certain days and for club events and the club participated in community outreach programs including charity work; which we did, in costume.”

“That...is...awesome!” Scott’s face transforms into a huge grin. “That has got to be one of the coolest things ever! Who did you go as, Batman?”

“No,” Blaine says, pleased and surprised at Scott’s enthusiasm over the club. “We had to make our own superheroes and design our own costumes. That way, no one fights over who gets to be Batman or Superman.”

“That’s even better, so who are you?”

“I can’t tell you,” Blaine says smirking.

“Why not?!” Scott actually looks upset.

“Duh,” Blaine says rolling his eyes, “it’s a secret identity?”

“Huh,” Scott says settling back and then shrugs his shoulders. “No worries, I’ll have Danny look it up later. He’s like a demon on the computer, he’ll find out.”

“Nightbird.”

Scott looks at Blaine who had also leaned back and was now facing the sun with his eyes closed. “Huh?”

“My alter ego’s name was Nightbird,” he repeats. “Sam was the Blonde Chameleon but don’t tell him I told you.”

“Wait, _Sam_ used to be a part of the superhero club?”

“Yeah, he’s the one who changed the direction of the club from just being cosplayers to a charity group…who were also cosplayers.”

“Aha!” Scott exclaims. As Blaine looks to him, his eyes open and his face showing confusion. “You made a mistake! You had neatly deflected my earlier question about you and Sam but you brought it back around!”

“I wasn’t deflecting.”

“Yes you were.”

“If I was I was, but then so were you, I noticed you didn’t answer me about you and Allison either.”

“We used to be together but now we’re just friends,” Scott shrugs.

“That’s nice,” Blaine says. “It’s good that you can remain friends. That’s one thing the New Directions was cool about, with all the inter-group dating and relationships we learned how to stay friends despite all the break-ups that were going around.” Blaine sits up as if realizing something. “Come to think of it, the harshest rivalries were among people who never dated and were never interested in each other that way.”

Scott opened his mouth about to tell Blaine about Jackson when something occurred to him.

“You did it again!” Scott is now on his knees pointing accusingly at Blaine. “Deflector!”

Blaine chuckles, “Okay! Okay! You got me!” He looks at Scott with plain curiosity on his face. “Why do you want to know?”

When he sees Scott’s eyes narrow, he holds up his hands and speaks up before Scott can yell at him again. “Peace! Peace! I’m not deflecting but before I answer your rather _personal_ question I just want to know the reason behind it.”

Scott can’t help but blush when he realized that his question _is_ rather personal but he has his reasons and isn’t afraid to share them with Blaine, maybe not all of them though...Blaine _is_ kinda cute and he’s curious how close he is with this Sam dude.

“Sam is the most volatile and dangerous of the three of you,” Scott says, settling back down. “I meant what I said, I don’t hold his actions back at the Nemeton against him but he’s the wild card. I swore to protect you guys and to do my job I have to understand you. I think I get where you and Cooper are coming from but Sam is an enigma.” Scott didn’t want to admit that Sam actually scared him last night and every bit of information that can help him get a handle on Sam would help. “I’m specifically asking about the two of you because you seem to be the only one who can control him.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Blaine says. His eyes look back out into the yard. “Don’t judge Sam too harshly. If you met him last year you would swear he was a completely different person.” Blaine looks at Scott again. “We all had to change to survive. Sam just had to change the most. He isn’t an attack dog, you know, he can reason and it’s not like I have a remote control that directs his thoughts and actions—”

“But you can if you wanted to,” a voice behind the interrupts.

Scott and Blaine turn to see Deaton and Chris behind them. Blaine grimaces, realizing that by allowing himself to relax he let the two to sneak up on him. He expands his senses. He can smell Cooper and he can feel Sam. They’re in the kitchen, probably unpacking the food.

“What do you mean?” Scott asks Deaton but Deaton remains silent and just looks at Blaine. Scott turns to face Blaine and asks again, “What does he mean, Blaine?”

“He means that I blood-bound Sam.”

“That’s how you calm him down, isn’t it?” Deaton asks. “I sensed it. You can feel each other and you can control his emotions. That’s how you were able to heal him, one of those pre-conditions?”

“Must either be related to me by blood or bound to me by blood,” Blaine says dully. He gets up, feeling a little vulnerable on the ground. He clamps down on his emotions, though, not wanting to have Sam come storming out here and possibly cause an incident.

“You enslaved another person,” Deaton says intensely. He isn’t shouting but Blaine can feel him holding back. “How can you expect to go through the ritual as “pure” when you used a ritual to bind another person against his will?”

“When he did it to save my life,” Sam answers coolly behind Deaton. Blaine sighs, seems like everyone is sneaking up on everyone else. He looks at Sam and Sam looks back at him and Blaine looks down with a grimace, he can feel Sam’s smugness over their connection. Sam _knew_ something was up when Blaine locked their connection down tight.

“More than Tina, more than Kurt, **I’m** Blaine’s best friend,” Sam says. “If I asked him to go to the middle of the Amazon forest with nothing but a plastic spork he would.”

Blaine walks up to Sam and nudges his shoulder. “I’m kinda stupid that way.”

“So those bastards grabbed me and started the ritual but Pamela, Cooper and Blaine showed up and stopped them,” Sam never took his eyes off Deaton. “It was too late you know, they had taken my heart but they hadn’t consumed it yet and the ritual was keeping me alive. I needed to be alive while they took my skin.”

Scott gulped as he realized that their friends Kurt, Tina and Finn were flayed _alive_. He imagined someone doing that to Stiles and he couldn’t understand how Blaine was willing to let those bastards get away with it. Then he thought if it meant sparing Isaac, his mom, Allison and the rest the same horror, he might do the same. He looked at Blaine and felt a kinship with the young man. He just knew that Blaine hated them with every fibre of his being, but he won’t let that hate dictate his decisions. Blaine was as much an alpha of his pack as Scott was of his.

“They stopped them but they couldn’t put my heart back and we all knew that once the candles were extinguished the ritual will end and I’d die,” Sam’s eyes and words bored into Deaton. “So Blaine did the only thing he could to keep me alive, he gave me his.”

“Figuratively speaking of course,” Blaine adds trying to lighten the mood. “I didn’t literally tear my heart out and put it in Sam.” Blaine winces when his attempt at levity falls flat.

An uneasy silence descends on the yard. The world suddenly got a bit darker despite the bright sunlight.

“Sacrifice, Emissary,” Sam continues unrelentingly. “He sacrificed himself for me. There is nothing purer, no magic whiter than that. So before you start accusing him of the darkest craft, know that you aren’t the only one who knows his shit.”

“I will not apologize,” Deaton says. “Sacrifice is pure, yes, but his reasons his motivations...if they are even the least bit selfish, he will be judged harshly!”

“Then it’s a good thing that he’s the one who will be standing there and be judged and not you, isn’t it, druid?”

“Sam,” Blaine says firmly. “That’s enough.” He turns to face Deaton. “I know the risks I’m facing Emissary and I’m grateful for your concern but I’ve made my decision. If you will consent to perform the ritual then I will be ready to face whatever comes.”

Deaton nods stiffly and swiftly walks back to the house. Chris however has a curious expression on his face while looking at Sam.

“What?” Sam barks at the man, not liking his scrutiny.

“You’re a revenant,” Chris says with a voice that sounds satisfied, that a puzzle has been solved.

“Stop trying to figure me out!” Sam bites back harshly.

“Sam,” Blaine says in a soft but firm voice. Blaine can feel the emotions in Sam warring in him and he knows by now to let Sam cool off. “Why don’t you go for a run?” Running has always been like meditation for Sam, and Blaine knows he needs it right now.

“Go,” Blaine says, “I’ll be fine.” Sam smiles a tiny smile and without looking at either Scott or Chris walks towards the house.

“He needs to cool down,” Blaine explains as he watches Sam walk away. “He’s doesn’t like it when people assume the worst about us.”

“He doesn’t behave like a revenant,” Chris says.

“Sorry but I have to admit that I haven’t really been doing my homework,” Scott interrupts. “What’s a revenant?”

“Revenants are the vengeful dead, brought back to life to right the wrongs done to them—”

“Sam isn’t a revenant,” Blaine interrupts. He looks at Chris and Scott and seems to think hard, probably on what to say. “Sam isn’t a revenant,” Blaine repeats himself, “you shot him, remember? He was dying. Revenants, being undead, are kinda immune to death.”

“Right,” Chris says sheepishly, “I forgot about that.”

“So what he is he?”

“Sam is a person,” Blaine says in a tone closest to anger that either man has ever heard him, despite the hard things he has had to reveal. “Sam was going to die. I didn’t know what I was doing, all I knew at the time was that I had some power over blood and Sam was going to die because he wouldn’t have that piece of himself that controlled blood.

“Like I said, I didn’t know what I was doing, I only wanted him to live,” Blaine isn’t looking at them, he’s just looking at where Sam had walked off. “I... _called_...on the blood. I don’t know how I did what I did and I doubt I could do it again but the end result is that, somehow, he’s bound to me. He shares my life, my strength, my speed, and my senses. He can still die, as you saw in the clearing and if I die then so will he. We are bound. I can choose to exert my control over the bond, but I won’t. I will _never_ do that to Sam.

“For what it’s worth, I hope that gives you a handle on him Scott,” Blaine says as he walks away.

Scott watches him go. He remembers what Sam said last night, that he’s insane...a monster. His heart was ripped out of his chest while being kept alive, and then his friend did something to him...what would that do to a person?


	12. Chapter 11

“Change them into violet! Can you change them to violet?”

Scott walks into the house seeing Blaine sitting on the couch beside Lydia. Allison is sitting behind her with a look of wonder on her face. Cooper is on the arm of the couch behind Lydia with an amused expression on his face.

Blaine rolls his eyes and then stares at Lydia who then shrieks, actually shrieks, with glee. “Oh this is the best! Why don’t you have cool powers like this Scott?” She asks without turning to face him, instead keeping her eyes on Blaine’s face with a sort of _hungry_ expression that makes Scott want to pull Blaine away from her.

“Am I missing something?”

“Blaine can change his eye color,” Allison fills him in. “Pretty much in any shade.”

“Which is not as great as it sounds because in moonlight they will still flash red,” Blaine adds in.

“Details,” Lydia waves his objection aside. “What about hair color?”

“Can’t,” Blaine says with a wistful grin, “clan tell, remember? My coloring stays dark, and that includes hair color. In fact, I used to have brownish tints in my hair but now it’s just this solid black.”

“What about Sam?” Lydia demands.

“What about Sam?” Scott asks a little sharply, wondering if that guy can also shapeshift.

“Blaine changed his hair to blond!” Lydia says excitedly.

As Scott looks at Blaine with surprise, Blaine hurriedly explains, “My bond with Sam allows me to use my abilities on him to a degree. I can’t make any drastic changes; mostly light stuff, nothing major but useful if we want to confuse people looking for a specific description. And since Sam isn’t an aswang, he has no tells, I can change his hair color to whatever we want.” Blaine shrugs with embarrassment. “Sam likes being blond. I might lose this ability after the ritual so I just changed his hair back to its natural color while I still could.”

Scott couldn’t help but tense when Sam’s name was mentioned and he didn’t like being reminded of Blaine’s bond to him. He didn’t realize how much he was projecting these feeling until he realized that an awkward silence had filled the room.

“Blaine can also lighten his skin tone a bit but not by much but he can darken his skin to almost completely black,” Cooper offers, breaking the tension.

“Mostly I use it to look like I have a tan even if I don’t see the sun in weeks,” Blaine says, grateful for the change in subject. “And I’ve been playing around and have learned to do this.”

Blaine looks at his arm with a determined look on his face, his now violet eyes catching the light and makes them glow, and black lines start appearing on his arm. A few seconds later he has what looks like a tribal tattoo on his forearm.

“You can have any tattoo you want and make it go away when you’re tired of it?” Lydia asks with wide eyes.

“Yep,” Blaine says proudly, “except only in human skin tones and black. I can’t do other colors.”

“How long does it last?” Allison asks as she reaches out and touches the “tattoo”.

“Until I erase it,” Blaine says. “Once I create it, it’s part of my skin until I change it.”

“Definitely the coolest power,” Lydia says looking off into the distance, “think about the fashion-coordinating possibilities!”

She pulls herself together with a shake and then stands up, practically yanking Blaine to his feet. “We have to go shopping. This t-shirt and jeans thing you’ve got going isn’t really doing you any favors.”

“I know,” Blaine says mournfully and shoots Cooper a nasty look when he starts to snicker.

“Blainey was quite upset that we had to leave his bow ties and hair gel behind,” Cooper says unrepentantly. “I promise you, there were tears.”

“Cooper,” Blaine says through gritted teeth. “I can hurt you in ways you wouldn’t begin to understand.”

Cooper snaps his mouth shut and his right hand does a locking motion but his smirk is still full of mischief. Blaine however takes all the victories he can get.

“Bow ties, huh?” Lydia murmurs. “I can work with that although I don’t know why you want to gel these curls...”

“Lydia, before we turn you guys loose in the mall we need to discuss one thing first.”

“What?”

“Where they’re going to stay,” Scott says. “As much as I would want to, we don’t really have room here. Even if Isaac bunks with me, I don’t think his room will be all that comfortable for all three of them.”

Cooper looks at Scott gratefully, appreciating the alpha’s silent intention of not splitting the three of them up.

“Blaine can stay with me,” Lydia says with an unholy glint in her eye.

“I don’t think they’ll be comfortable being apart until we are sure the clans are no longer after them,” Scott says. “I don’t blame them. Besides, I doubt they’ll be able to rest easy sleeping apart after looking out for each other all this time.”

Cooper nods, signifying his agreement with Scott. Blaine adds, “Sam won’t want to be too far away from me. And with the two of us together, we’re going to worry about Cooper.”

“I could have convinced my parents to let Blaine stay over but not with Sam and Cooper in tow,” Lydia says with a huff.

“We aren’t exactly hurting for cash,” Cooper says with a cheeky smile. “Just point us to a comfortable bed & breakfast and we’re good. I think I’ve had enough of motels to last me a lifetime.”

“Rose Hill?” Allison asks Lydia.

“Winkle Inn is nearer the town center,” Lydia offers. “And it has rooms with private doors to the outside. They can go in and out without anyone taking notice.”

“Rose Hill is a bit more remote, its backyard practically extends to the woods so it’s easier for us to come in unseen,” Allison counters. “And besides, Scott and Isaac are experts in going into locked houses without being seen,” she adds with a sardonic look at Scott who manages to blush.

“I vote for Rose Hill,” Cooper says. “As much as being in the center of civilization is going to be great, I doubt it will help us sleep. We’ve gotten used to quiet meaning safe, if you know what I mean.”

“And if something happens,” Blaine adds, “we want to take it into the woods and out of sight as quickly as possible.”

“Rose Hill it is then.”

“Well since that is all settled,” Lydia says pulling Blaine with her out the front door so quickly Scott swears they leave an after-image behind. “Allison! Come on!”

Allison shakes her head and with a quiet laugh as she quickly follows her friend.

“So,” Scott says looking at Cooper, “when you guys said that Blaine is a shapeshifter, I thought you just meant animals.”

“Primarily,” Cooper says, “but we found that once he gained his first animal form, he can do minor changes to his human form. Nothing drastic: a couple of inches shorter or taller, burn off or add about ten to fifteen pounds, increase or decrease muscle mass...mostly cosmetic.”

“What kind of animals can he turn into?”

“Cats, squirrels, birds...I think the biggest thing he caught was a deer,” Cooper says. “And seeing a black deer? Creepy as fuck.” He says with a shudder. “Blaine doesn’t like it though, he says it feels off. He prefers turning into a dog,” Cooper had a strange twist to his mouth. “Blaine loves animals, and for him, to hunt them like this really gets to him. He only killed a dog once before swearing never to do it again, but Sam and I kinda forced him to keep feeding on dogs though.”

“Why?”

“We were on the run,” Cooper says shrugging his shoulders sadly. “Sometimes dogs were the easiest animal we could find. He takes on the abilities of the animals he takes, remember? Having him take on the strength of a Rottweiler or a pit bull is pretty useful. Also, by sticking to an animal diet, Blaine has one of the sharpest senses around. He can detect the others way before they can lock on to us.”

“So he can turn into a bird?”

“He can leave anytime he wants to, but he stays for us,” Cooper says. “Once he got it into his head to leave us so he can draw the clan away, but we managed to convince him that if he did that, we’ll just be unable to protect ourselves from them. And they’ll still hunt us down to use as bait to catch him.”

“He loves to fly,” Cooper continues with smile. “It took him a long time to learn how but once he got the hang of it, every chance he gets he goes off flying.”

“Nightbird...” Scott whispers.

Cooper gives him a look and Scott can’t help but feel guilty, although he doesn’t know why. Okay he knows why but he hopes that he’s been discreet.

“It’s not a good idea Scott,” Cooper says.

“What’s not a good idea?” Scott asks, hoping to bluff his way out. His innocent look is really good...not that it works on his mom...or Stiles or Allison or Isaac or Chris or the Sheriff or Deaton (not that anything gets by Deaton) or Lydia (but that’s cos Lydia’s heartless and doesn’t care about innocence or guilt)...okay he’s screwed.

“He’s taken, Scott,” Cooper says calmly and not unkindly. “If Blaine and Sam were just normal boys I wouldn’t have said anything and I would have sat back and watched you guys act like idiots with a bowl of popcorn and a video camera. But you three aren’t normal boys and even if our safety isn’t at stake, I would tell you to bury whatever feelings you have for my brother that isn’t platonic and let him go. He’s bound to Sam and it’s not just magic that’s keeping him there. He loves Sam, don’t ever doubt that. Even if by some miracle you get him to consider you, he and Sam are a package deal and Sam will _never_ share him. Let it go Scott, if not for your sake, then for ours?”

Scott watches Cooper walk out of the room. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Cooper’s right. He should get a grip and forget about Blaine before he gets in too deep. Too much was at stake. He’ll wonder what might have been but won’t give in to that luxury at least until after the ritual. Hopefully things won’t be as dangerous then.

Scott turns to go up to his room when he sees Sam standing in the hallway looking at him. Scott is pulled up short and he wonders how long Sam has been standing there, if he heard Cooper...? He also can’t help but feel a little jealous that with blond hair Sam looks less like a psychopathic redneck and more like a model for Abercrombie & Fitch.

Sam continues to look at him in silence and Scott can’t feel anything, Sam’s heart-rate is normal, his breathing is steady and he’s not getting a hostile vibe off of him. In fact, he’s like a blank slate. His face shows no emotions whatsoever. Sam’s eyes are a brilliant shade of green but are otherwise as lifeless as a corpse.

 _“I’m insane Scott,”_ Scott remembers Sam telling him last night. _“Functional, true, but in many ways, I’m more of a monster than Blaine, even at his worst. Even as the Beast, someone he cares for, like Cooper, can still reach him and argue with him because there’s still something human inside him. Not me. There isn’t anything like that inside me. Chris is right, I’m not entirely human anymore.”_

As Scott’s hackles begin to rise because the alpha can’t help but feel like he’s being challenged, Sam quietly turns away and walks to the kitchen. Scott can’t wait until they finish the ritual. Although he can’t help but wonder if they are performing it for the right person.


	13. Chapter 12

“I can’t believe you only bought two shirts and one pair of pants,” Lydia complains. Blaine smiles as he eats his frozen yoghurt. They had dropped off their purchases in Lydia’s car—because Lydia of course bought some things and so did Allison—and are now just hanging out...like they were normal kids. He’s missed this.

“Life on the run, remember?” Blaine reminds her. “Cooper and Sam and I have one bag each and if it can’t fit in the bag, then we can’t bring it with us. The fact that I’m smaller than they are means I actually do have more clothes than they do but as it is, I think I’m going to have get rid of a shirt or two to fit the new clothes in.”

As Lydia dragged Allison to a shop window to look at shoes, Blaine thought about how much he has changed. Not the obvious one where he’s now a monster out of a horror story, but the little things. He actually had no desire to get a bow tie even though there were several really nice ones that were on display. The pants he bought, his first consideration was how much freedom of movement it would give him and if the material could stand a lot of abuse, color and style were only considered because he needed to know if it would make him blend in or stand out.

He actually wants to go to Huntington’s and check out their selection of knives. They haven’t been able to get their hands on a gun, mostly for Cooper since he and Sam had their own ways of protecting themselves, and fortunately in the months they’ve been on the run they didn’t really need it. In fact, there were several instances that it was a good thing that they didn’t have one on them when they were pulled over a couple of times for speeding (always when it was Sam driving).

Knives, though, they have been able to buy some knives (and machetes and hatchets “for camping”) especially in Indiana, and they had held Blaine’s fascination since.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Blaine starts and sees Allison smiling shyly at him. Blaine smiles back. “I was just wondering if Lydia will freak out if I told her I want to check out some knives.” He indicates the store with a nod of his head. “Where is Lydia anyway?”

“Single-handedly ending the recession,” Allison answers blithely, she walks up to Blaine with a puzzled expression. “You like knives?”

Blaine grins. “Sam and I can take care of ourselves but Cooper needs to be armed and we didn’t exactly know where to pick up guns while running for our lives. We bought a few knives in some town in Indiana and what can I say? I think they’re cool.”

Blaine walks over to a trash can and dumps his empty cup.

“It’s more for Cooper, really. I just feel better with him armed,” Blaine continues as he rejoins Allison. He smiles up at her. “You don’t happen to know any black market dealers in firearms who would sell to a couple of guys on the run, do you?”

Allison gives Blaine a huge grin. “Funny you should ask...”

Blaine suddenly stiffens. His eyes involuntarily narrows as something feels off to him. He didn’t lie to Scott and the others, not really, more like he didn’t tell the whole truth. His senses **are** sharper because of all the animals he had to feed on but that isn’t why he can tell if there are other aswangs about. He can sense them. Ever since his...birthright...awakened, he could always tell when there was an aswang about. He can sense one of them now.

“Blaine?” Allison asks softly. He looks at her and he sees that she’s alert, aware that something is wrong.

“Get Lydia,” Blaine says quickly as he continues to look around the mall, trying to pinpoint his quarry. “One of them is here.”

Allison nods and quickly heads to the store as Blaine picks up his phone to call Cooper.


	14. Afterword

And that’s all she wrote…or rather, that’s all I wrote.

Looking back, I wish I had continued writing instead of trying to fix the exposition-heavy chapters first. Maybe I would have gotten at least to the end of the first act instead of ending it where I did. But I didn’t, and I will be honest, while my dislike of Glee was the main reason I lost my inspiration to finish this fic, it wasn’t the only reason. In the end, the fic isn’t finished and will probably never be, at least not by me.

I planned to have one of the Glee kids appear (Puck or Mike)—and it was supposed to be really them, not a skinstealer—to distract them. The aswangs had one of their loved ones and was forcing the Glee kid to get with the group and try to mess with them and try to separate Blaine from them (yes, Blaine is the actual target).

However, the Gleek tells them the truth and they plan to do the ritual and then mount a rescue. The ritual gets done but the aswangs attack, however Stiles and Ethan and Aiden show up and they win.

Blaine loses his connection to the Beast but I hadn’t decided how it would impact his powers. I was thinking on whether he loses all his shapeshifting abilities except turning only into one animal, a “beast form” or he retains his shapeshifting but only on what he can currently turn into, he can no longer acquire new shapes.

We find out that Pamela, Blaine’s mom, is still alive. She’s Inang Bulan. Pamela really was an aswang who fell in love with Blaine’s dad but Inang Bulan killed her and stole her skin and then gave birth to Blaine (also hadn’t decided if she killed Pam while pregnant with Blaine and she transferred the still unborn Blaine into her womb). Prophecy, convergence, Blaine-is-a-speshul-unique-person!, 13th-generation since that sabbat-type thing.

She manipulated all of it: Blaine disconnecting from the Beast but still an aswang…I haven’t figured out how exactly but that fact was somehow going to be instrumental for her revenge against the clans for killing her family.

She’s the one who allowed Blaine to create what Sam is (her clan is steeped with forgotten magic, remember?) and the journal was specially edited with spells and rituals to help them along. Cooper is a gifted spellcaster (no accident, he had been groomed by Pam for years to be his brother’s protector) so she made sure he had the means to get things done. Sam was just a bonus, another bodyguard to make sure Blaine survives until she needs him.

I’m hazy on the details because it has been years since I seriously thought of this fic, but that was the general arc. The ending is that they kill Inang Bulan, get the aswangs off Blaine’s back and join Scott’s pack.

Yes, Sam stays “crazy”. No, Scott doesn’t get Blaine. Cooper is not a druid but grows into his own kind of magic.

And yes, I kinda implied that Scott and Isaac sometimes share a bed, and yes they do have sex but it’s more of a comfort thing and a pleasure thing and a stress-relief thing.

And that’s it! If you want to adopt this fic, go right ahead. You don’t even have to go where I intended it to go, if you want to take it somewhere else, feel free. Just send me a link so I can read it!


End file.
